So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
For God will deign to visit oft the dwellings of just men – delighted, and with frequent intercourse – thither will send his winged messengers on errants of supernal grace.
A beardless cynic is the shame of nature.
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on that golden key That opes the palace of Eternity.
When thou attended gloriously from heaven, Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send Thy summoning archangels to proclaim Thy dread tribunal.
Money brings honor, friends, conquest, and realms.
Promiscuous reading is necessary to the constituting of human nature. The attempt to keep out evil doctrine by licensing is like the exploit of that gallant man who thought to keep out the crows by shutting the park gate.
Thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers.
But that from us aught should ascend to Heav’n So prevalent as to concern the mind Of God, high-bless’d, or to incline His will, Hard to belief may seem; yet this will prayer.
In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
Who knows not Circe, The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, And downward fell into a groveling swine?
Now the bright morning-star, day’s harbinger, comes dancing from the east.
The greatest burden in the world is superstition, not only of ceremonies in the church, but of imaginary and scarecrow sins at home.
But now my task is smoothly done, I can fly, or I can run Quickly to the green earth’s end, Where the bow’d welkin slow doth bend, And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the Moon.
Yet much remains To conquer still; peace hath her victories No less renowned then war, new foes arise Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains: Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves whose gospel is their maw.
Necessity and chance Approach not me, and what I will is fate.
It was from out the rind of one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil, as two twins cleaving together, leaped forth into the world.
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise.
Ah gentle pair, ye little think how nigh Your change approaches, when all these delights Will vanish and deliver ye to woe, More woe, the more your taste is now of joy.
O when meet now Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined?
Death to life is crown or shame.