Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.

Hear all ye angels, progeny of light, Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise. That last infirmity of noble mind. To scorn delights, and live laborious days.

Solitude sometimes is best society.

Enflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to all ages.

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb, counseled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth, not peace.

Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief.