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If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Allow obedience, if you yourselves are old, Make it your cause.

h.

King Lear. Act II. Sc. 4.

Pray, do not mock me:

I am a very foolish fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

i. King Lear. Act IV. Sc. 7.

Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

J. King Henry IV. Pt. II. Act I. Sc. 2.

Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

k. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 2. The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show, Of mouthed graves will give thee memory, Thou by thy dial's shady stealth maiest know, Time's thievish progress to eternity. 1. Sonnet LXXIÏ.

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.

ገቢ As You Like It. Act II. Sc. 3

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A threefold measure dwells in Space-
Restless Length, with flying race;
Stretching forward, never endeth,
Ever widening, Breadth extendeth
Ever groundless, Depth descendeth.
Types in these thou dost possess ;-
Restless, onward thou must press,
Never halt nor languor know,

To the Perfect wouldst thou go ;-
Let thy reach with Breadth extend
Till the world it comprehend-
Dive into the Depth to see
Germ and root of all that be.
Ever onward must thy soul;—

'Tis the progress gains the goal;
Ever widen more its bound;

In the Full the clear is found,

And the Truth-dwells under ground. SCHILLER-Sentences of Confucius.

e.

Ambition is no cure for love.

Space.

f. SCOTT-- Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto I. St. 27.

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When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough.

j.

Henry IV. Pt. I. Act. V. Sc. 4. It were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me. k. All's Well That Ends Well. Act. I. Sc. 1. Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition,

By that, sin, fell the angels; how can man then,

The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee;

Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Henry VIII. Act. III. Sc. 2.

1.

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Henry VI. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 1. How many a rustic Milton has pass'd by, Stifling the speechless longings of his heart, In unremitting drudgery and care! How many a vulgar Cato has compelled His energies, no longer tameless then, To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail!

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SHELLEY Queen Mab. Pt. V. St. 9.

I was born to other things.

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How like a mounting devil in the heart, Rules the unreined ambition.

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Mad ambition trumpeteth to all.

น. WILLIS-From a Poem delivered at

Yale College in 1827.

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