I hear you reproach, "But delay was best, For their end was a crime." Oh, a crime will do As well, I reply, to serve for a test As a virtue golden through and through, Sufficient to vindicate itself And prove its worth at a moment's view! . . . . . . Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will! The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin; And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost Is-the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.

The best way to excape his ire Is, not to seem too happy.

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.

And gain is gain, however small.

Earth is crammed with heavens.

'Tis well averred, A scientific faith's absurd.