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Book vii. Line 30.
Still govern thou my song,
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
Book viii. Line 84.
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb.
Book viii. Line 282.
And feel that I am happier than I know.
Book viii. Line 488.
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, In every gesture dignity and love.
Book viii. Line 502.
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, That would be wooed and not unsought be won.
Book viii. Line 548.
So well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say,
Book viii. Line 600.
Those graceful acts,
Those thousand decencies, that daily flow
Book viii. Line 618.
To whom the angel, with a smile that glowed Celestial rosy red (love's proper hue).
Paradise Lost -Continued.
Book ix. Line 26.
Pleased me, long choosing and beginning late.
Book ix. Line 249.
For solitude sometimes is best society,
Book ix. Line 782.
Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat, Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, That all was lost.
Book ix. Line 1107.
High overarched, and echoing walks between.
Book x. Line 77.
Yet I shall temper so
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most
Book xi. Line 485.
And moon-struck madness.
Book xi. Line 491.
And over them triumphant Death his dart
Book xii. Line 646.
The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
Book iii. Line 56.
Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise.
Book iv. Line 240.
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
Book iv. Line 267.
Thence to the famous orators repair,
Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence
Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece,
Book iv. Line 330.
As children gathering pebbles on the shore.
Just are the ways of God,
And justifiable to men.
He's gone, and who knows how he may report Thy words, by adding fuel to the flame?
Tame villatic fowl.
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot,
Which men call earth.
A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues, that syllable men's names On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smiled.
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul And lap it in Elysium.
Virtue could see to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk.
He that has light within his own clear breast
So dear to heaven is saintly chastity,
How charming is divine philosophy!
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose;
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.
I was all ear,
And took in strains that might create a soul
What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that,
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.