Still paying, still to owe. Eternal woe!

Among the writers of all ages, some deserve fame, and have it; others neither have nor deserve it; some have it, not deserving it; others, though deserving it, yet totally miss it, or have it not equal to their deserts.

Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?

Part of my soul I seek thee, and claim thee my other half

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. 1 Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 22.

Calm of mind, all passion spent.

The rising world of waters dark and deep.