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And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest infuence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.

Paradise Lost. Book viii. Line 508. The sum of earthly bliss.

Line 522. So well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. Line 548. Accuse not Nature: she hath done her part; Do thou but thine.

Line 561. Oft times nothing profits more Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right Well manag'd.

Line 571. Those graceful acts, Those thousand decencies that daily flow From all her words and actions.

Line 600 With a smile that glow'd Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue.

Line 618. My unpremeditated verse.

Book ix. Line 24. Pleas'd me, long choosing and beginning late. Line 26.

Unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing. Line 44.

Revenge, at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.

Line 171. The work under our labour grows, Luxurious by restraint.

Line 208. Smiles from reason flow, To brute deny’d, and are of love the food. Line 239.

1 “But most of all respect thyself." — A precept of the Pythagoreans.

For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.

Paradise Lost Book ix. Line 249. At shut of evening flowers.

Line 278. As one who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air. Line 445. So gloz'd the tempter.

Line 549. Hope elevates, and joy Brightens his crest.

Line 633, Left that command Sole daughter of his voice.

Line 652. Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost.

Line 782. In her face excuse Came prologue, and apology too prompt.

Line 853. A pillar'd shade High overarch’d, and echoing walks between. Line 1106.

Yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfy'd, and thee appease. Book x. Line 77. So scented the grim Feature, and upturn'd His nostril wide into the murky air, Sagacious of his quarry from so far.

Line 279. How gladly would I meet Mortality my sentence, and be earth Insensible ! how glad would lay me down As in my mother's lap!

Line 775. Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?

Book ri. Line 269.

1 Stern daughter of the voice of God. – WORDSWORTH : Ode to Duty.

Then purg'd with euphrasy and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see.

Paradise Lost. Book zi. Line 414.

Moping melancholy And moon-struck madness.

Line 485.

And over them triumphant Death his dart
Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok’d.

Line 491.

Line 535.

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop
Into thy mother's lap.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st
Live well: how long or short permit to heaven.'

Line 553

Line 582.

A bevy of fair women.
The brazen throat of war.

Line 713.

Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wip'd them soon ;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way. Book rii. Line 645.

Beauty stands
In the admiration only of weak minds
Led captive.

Paradise Regained. Book ü. Line 220. Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wreck’d.

Line 228. Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise.

Book iii. Line 56. Elephants endors’d with towers.

Line 329 Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, Meroe, Nilotic isle.

Book iv. Line 70.

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath’d.

Line 76.

1 Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes (Neither fear nor wish for your last day). — MARTIAL: lib. x. epigram 47, line 13.

The childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day."

Paradise Regained Book iv. Line 220. Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.

Line 240. The olive grove of Academe, Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird Trills her thick warbled notes the summer long.

Line 244. Thence to the famous orators repair, Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence Wielded at will that fierce democratie, Shook the arse

senal, and fulmin'd over Greece, To Macedon, and Artaxerxes' throne.

Line 267. Socrates .. Whom well inspir'd the oracle pronounc'd Wisest of men.

Line 274. Deep vers'd in books, and shallow in himself. Line 327. As children gath’ring pebbles on the shore. Or if I would delight my private hours With music or with poem, where so soon As in our native language can I find That solace ?

Line 330. Till morning fair Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray. Line 426. Oh dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!

Samson Agonistes. Line 80.

The sun to me is dark
And silent as the moon,
When she deserts the night
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Line 86.

1 The child is father of the man. - WORDSWORTH : My lleart Leaps up.

Ran on embattled armies clad in iron,
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.

Samson Agonistes. Line 129.
Just are the ways of God,
And justifiable to men;
Unless there be who think not God at all.

Line 293. What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe ?

Line 560. But who is this, what thing of sea or land, Female of sex it seems, That so bedeck’d, ornate, and gay, Comes this way sailing Like a stately ship Of Tarsus, bound for th' isles Of Javan or Gadire, With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play, An amber scent of odorous perfume Her harbinger?

Line 710. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.

Line 1003. He's gone, and who knows how he may report Thy words by adding fuel to the flame ?

Line 1350. For evil news rides post, while good news baits.

Line 1538. And as an ev'ning dragon came, Assailant on the perched roosts And nests in order rang'd Of tame villatic fowl.

Line 1692. Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame, - nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble. Line 1721.

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