Fear no more the lightning-flash, No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Quiet consummation have ; And renowned be thy grave! W. Shakespeare. LAST LINES. (Verses believed to have been written in his Bible the night before his Execution, Oct. 29, 1618.) EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, Sir W. Raleigh. 93 THE PROGRESS OF POESY. (II. 3, to the end.) WOODS, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Or where Mæander's amber waves How do your tuneful echoes languish, Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast. Far from the sun and summer-gale, Her awful face: the dauntless child |