Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?

To be weak is miserable, Doing or suffering.

To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

No worthy enterprise can be done by us without continual plodding and wearisomeness to our faint and sensitive abilities.

True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.

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.

Beyond is all abyss, eternity, whose end no eye can reach.