Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth. That golden key Comus. Line 5. That opes the palace of eternity. The nodding horror of whose shady brows What never yet was heard in tale or song, These my sky-robes spun out of Iris' woof. The star that bids the shepherd fold. Line 13. Line 38. Line 43. Line 46. Line 83. Line 93. Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Line 103. Line 138. Line 188. Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, Line 205. Oh welcome, pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope, Line 213. Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Line 221. Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Line 244. How sweetly did they float upon the wings. Comus. Line 249. Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul That in the colours of the rainbow live, It were a journey like the path to heaven, With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light. Virtue could see to do what virtue would Where with her best nurse Contemplation Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. Of miser's treasure. The unsunn'd heaps 'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity: Some say no evil thing that walks by night, Line 298. Line 303. Line 340. Line 373. Line 398. Line 420. Comus. Line 432. That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, How charming is divine philosophy! Line 453. And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets Where no crude surfeit reigns. Line 476. And sweeten'd every musk-rose of the dale. Line 496. Fill'd the air with barbarous dissonance. Line 550. I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Line 560. The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, Bore a bright golden flow'r, but not in this soil; Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells, 1 See Shakespeare, page 56. Line 631. Line 646. And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons. It is for homely features to keep home,- Ne'er looks to heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, Line 727. Line 748. Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Line 776. Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence. The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair. Line 859. But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run. Line 1012. Or if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n itself would stoop to her. I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. Line 1022. Lycidas. Line 3. Line 10. Without the meed of some melodious tear. Under the opening eyelids of the morn. Lycidas. Line 14. Line 26. But oh the heavy change, now thou art gone, Line 37. Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise1 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days; 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. |