Without the meed of some melodious tear. Lycidas. Line 14. Under the opening eyelids of the morn. Line 26. But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Line 37. The gadding vine. Line 40. And strictly meditate the thankless Muse. Line 66. To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair. Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 1 To scorn delights, and live laborious days; Line 68. Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears Line 70. Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. Line 78. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark. Line 100. The pilot of the Galilean lake; Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain). Line 109. But that two-handed engine at the door Line 130. 1 Erant quibus appetentior famæ videretur, quando etiam sapientibus cupido gloriæ novissima exuitur (Some might consider him as too fond of fame, for the desire of glory clings even to the best of men longer than any other passion) [said of Helvidius Priscus]. - TACITUS: Historia, iv. 6. The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet, The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine, Lycidas. Line 139 So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles, Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, Line 168. Line 188. Line 193. L'Allegro. Line 25. Then to the spicy nut-brown ale. L'Allegro. Line 100. Tower'd cities please us then, Ladies, whose bright eyes Such sights as youthful poets dream Line 117. Line 121. Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Line 129. And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, Line 135. Untwisting all the chains that tie The gay motes that people the sunbeams. And looks commercing with the skies, Line 143. Il Penseroso. Line 8. Line 39. Forget thyself to marble. Line 42. And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet. Line 45. And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure. Line 49. Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly, 1 Wisdom married to immortal verse. book vii. I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, Like one that had been led astray Il Penseroso. Line 65. Where glowing embers through the room. Far from all resort of mirth Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Line 79. Line 81. Line 97. Line 105. To something like prophetic strain. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie. Under the shady roof Of branching elm star-proof. Line 173. Arcades. Line 68. Line 88 O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted, Ode on the Death of a fair Infant, dying of a Cough. Such as may make thee search the coffers round. At a Vacation Exercise. Line 31. No war or battle's sound Hymn on Christ's Nativity. Line 53. Time will run back and fetch the age of gold. Line 135. Line 172 Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. Line 173. What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones, The labour of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid Under a star-y-pointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Epitaph on Shakespeare. And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, Ibid Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day.1 1 See Chaucer, page 6. |