Herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.
Indu’d With sanctity of reason.
Heav’nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate.
The Angel ended, and in Adam’s ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix’d to hear.
He touch’d the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay.
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy.
Such joy ambition finds.
Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Execute their airy purposes.
Lords are lordliest in their wine.
Goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems.
Rather than be less Car’d not to be at all.
Thus I set my printless feet O’er the cowslip’s velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of Heav’n on all his ways.
The bird of Jove, stoop’d from his aery tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.
Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen Within thy airy shell, By slow Meander’s margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale.
Eloquence the soul, song charms the senses.
What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
Knowledge cannot defile, nor consequently the books, if the will and conscience be not defiled.