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Waller continued.]

Marquis of Montrose.

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,
And every conqueror creates a muse.

For all we know

169

Panegyric on Cromwell.

Of what the blessed do above

Is, that they sing and that they love.

While I listen to thy voice.

Poets lose half the praise they should have got,
Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Upon Roscommon's Trans. of Horace, De Arte Poetica.

Could we forbear dispute, and practise love,
We should agree as angels do above.

Divine Love. Canto iii.

MARQUIS OF MONTROSE. 1612-1650.

He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,

That dares not put it to the touch

To gain or lose it all.

My Dear and only Love.1

I'll make thee glorious by my pen,

And famous by my sword.

Ibid.

1 From Napier's Mem. of Montrose, Vol. i. App. xxxiv. That puts it not unto the touch,

To win or lose it all.

From Napier's Montrose and the Covenanters, Vol. ii.

p. 566.

JOHN MILTON. 1608-1674.

PARADISE LOST.

Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world and all our woe.

Book i. Line 1.

Or if Sion hill

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flowed

Fast by the oracle of God.

Book i. Line 10.

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.

Book i. Line 16.

What in me is dark

Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That to the height of this, great argument
I may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.

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And rest can never dwell, hope never comes,

That comes to all.

Book i. Line 65.

What though the field be lost?

All is not lost; th' unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield.

Book i. Line 105.

To be weak is miserable,

Paradise Lost continued.]

Doing or suffering.

Book i. Line 157.

And out of good still to find means of evil.

Book i. Line 165.

Farewell happy fields,

Where joy for ever dwells: hail, horrors; hail.

Book i. Line 249.

A mind not to be changed by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
Book i. Line 253.

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.

Book i. Line 261

Heard so oft

In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge
Of battle.
Book i. Line 275.

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine,
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast
Of some great ammiral, were but a wand,
He walk'd with to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marle.

Book i. Line 292.

Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades

High over-arch'd imbower.

Book i. Line 302.

Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen!

Book i. Line 330.

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Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

Book i. Line 500.

Th' imperial ensign, which, full high advanc'd,
Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind.
Book i. Line 536.

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds:
At which the universal host up sent
A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

Book i. Line 540.

In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood

Of flutes and soft recorders. Book i. Line 550.

His form had yet not lost

All her original brightness, nor appear'd

Less than archangel ruined, and th' excess

Of glory obscured.

Book i. Line 591.

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.

Book i. Line 597.

Thrice he assayed, and thrice in spite of scorn

Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.

Book i. Line 619.

Paradise Lost continued.]

Who overcomes

By force, hath overcome but half his foe.

Book i. Line 648.

Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell

From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts

Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd

In vision beatific.

Book i. Line 679.

Let none admire

That riches grow in hell: that soil may best

Deserve the precious bane.

Book i. Line 690.

Anon out of the earth a fabric huge

Rose, like an exhalation.

Book i. Line 710.

From morn

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer's day; and with the setting sun
Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.
Book i. Line 742.

Faëry elves,

Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress.
Book i. Line 781.

High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand

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