From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit.

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

A good principle not rightly understood may prove as hurtful as a bad.

And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon.

And these gems of Heav'n, her starry train.