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ARISTOCRACY.

Grant her, besides, of noble blood that ran In ancient veins, ere heraldry began.

DRYDEN.

May none whose scatter'd names honour my book,

For strict degrees of rank or title look; 'Tis 'gainst the manner of an epigram, And I a poet here, no herald, am.

BEN JONSON. Their choice nobility and flower Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. MILTON.

He, then, that is not furnish'd in this sort
Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain,
That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
SHAKSPEARE.

Howe'er it be, it seems to me
'Tis only noble to be good:
Kind hearts are more than coronets,

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ART.

The whole world, without art and dress,
Would be but one great wilderness,
And mankind but a savage herd,
For all that nature has conferr'd:
This does but roughen and design,
Leaves art to polish and refine.

BUTLER: Hudibras. Their wildness lose, and, quitting nature's part, Obey the rules and discipline of art.

DRYDEN.

Such tools as art yet rude had form'd.

MILTON.

Art from that fund each just supply provides, Works without show, and without pomp presides.

POPE.

From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.
POPE: Essay on Criticism.

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart.
POPE: Prologue to “Cato."
We oft our slowly growing works impart,
While images reflect from art to art.

POPE.

Semblant art shall carve the fair effect
And full achievement of thy great designs.
PRIOR.

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From Egypt arts their progress made to Greece, Their arts victorious triumph'd o'er our arms. Wrapt in the fable of the golden fleece.

SIR J. DENHAM.

The soldier then in Grecian arts unskill'd,
Returning rich with plunder from the field,
If cups of silver or of gold he brought
With jewels set, and exquisitely wrought,
To glorious trappings strait the plate he turn'd,
And with the glitt'ring spoil his horse adorn'd.
DRYDEN.

What wonder if the kindly beams he shed,
Revived the drooping arts again;
If science raised her head,
And soft humanity, that from rebellion fled.
DRYDEN.

All arts and artists Theseus could command,
Who sold for hire, or wrought for better fame.
DRYDEN.

POPE.

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Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about
The wilds of life ere I could find a friend.
ADDISON.
Man is his own star, and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man,
Commands all light, all influence, all fate-
Nothing to him falls early or too late.
Our acts our angels are, or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Though cheats, yet more intelligible
Than those that with the stars do fribble.
BUTLER: Hudibras.

But with more lucky hit than those
That use to make the stars depose.

BUTLER: Hudibras.

I only deal by rules of art, Such as are lawful, and judge by Conclusions of astrology.

BUTLER: Hudibras.

Cardan believed great states depend
Upon the tip o' th' bear's tail's end;
That as she whisk'd it t'wards the sun,
Strow'd mighty empires up and down.
BUTLER: Hudibras.

They'll find i' the physiognomies
O' th' planets all men's destinies.

BUTLER: Hudibras.

Quoth Hudibras, The stars determine
You are my prisoners, base vermin!
Could they not tell you so, as well
As what I came to know foretell?

BUTLER: Hudibras.

Many rare pithy saws concerning The worth of astrologic learning.

BUTLER: Hudibras.

Cry out upon the stars for doing Ill offices, to cross their wooing.

BUTLER: Hudibras.

The astrologer, who spells the stars, Mistakes his globes, and in her brighter eye Interprets heaven's physiognomies.

JOHN CLEAVELAND.

CRASHAW.

Large foundations may be safely laid,
Or houses roof'd, if friendly planets aid.
CREECH.

The Greek names this the horoscope,
This governs life, and this marks out our parts;
Our humours, manners, qualities, and arts.
CREECH.

We must trust to virtue, not to fate;
That may protect, whom cruel stars will hate.
SIR W. DAVENANT: Distresses.
Unskill'd in schemes by planets to foreshow,
I neither will nor can prognosticate
To the young gaping heir his father's fate.
DRYDEN.

The spiteful stars have shed their venom down,
And now the peaceful planets take their turn.
DRYDEN.

Such sullen planets at my birth did shine,
They threaten every fortune mixt with mine.
DRYDEN.

Sorceries to raise th' infernal pow'rs,
And sigils framed in planetary hours.

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That our stars, unreconcilable, should have A little nearer Spenser, to make room

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