The olive grove of Academe, Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long.

And join with thee calm Peace and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.

In naked beauty more adorn'd, More lovely than Pandora.

Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, Or the tale of Troy divine.

Immortal amarant, a flower which once In paradise, fast by the tree of life, Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence To heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows, And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life, And where the river of bliss through midst of heaven Rolls o'er elysian flowers her amber stream: With these that never fade the spirits elect Bind their resplendent locks.

He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.

The redundant locks, robustious to no purpose, clustering down--vast monument of strength.