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And valley fortunes are far more secure.
The humble valleys thrive with bosoms full
Of flowers, when hills do melt with lightning and

Rough anger of the clouds. 165.

Thou spear, which at my call
Didst never fail me yet, the hour is come:
Thee once great Actor held, now Turnus wields :
O grant that I this girlish Phrygian lord
May strike to earth; his cuirass with strong arm
Let me tear off, and in the dust besmear

Those tresses wet with myrrh, with iron curld ! 166. O Palæologus, hast thou for me

In fancy shap'd a world and an existence
Where thou art not?
Here is my world, my life, my land of refuge,
And to no other will I ever flee.
Here still is light and hope ; turning from this,

All else around me is a yawning tomb. 167. The tyrant Love invades not man alone

Or woman, but with tumult fills the souls
Of the immortal powers in heaven above,
And enters the recesses of the deep;
Nor, though omnipotent, can Jove himself
Control this victor, but to his behests,

Without reluctance, doth the thunderer yield. 168. Alcides travers'd ne'er such vast domains,

Tho' he the brazen-footed stag did smite,
The woods of Erymanthus quieted,
And made all Lerna tremble with his bow:
Nor Liber, when his tigers chariot-yok'd
With viny reins he drove victorious

From Nysa's cliff.
169. What shall be, shall; there is no choice:

Things needs must drive as Destinie decreeth :

For which we ought in all our haps rejoyce,
Because the Eye eternall things foreseeth,
Which to no ill at any time agreeth:
For ills, too ill to us, be good to it,

So farre his skill exceeds our reache of wit. 170.

I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast that liv'd upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,

So long as I could see. 171. And dost thou triumph, murderer ? dost thou deem,

Because I perish, that th' unsleeping lids
Of Justice shall be clos'd upon thy crime ?
Poor, miserable man, that thou canst live
With such beast-blindness in thy present joy,
When o'er thy head the sword of God

Hangs for the certain stroke.
172. Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape,

That dar’st, though grim and terrible, advance
Thy miscreated front athwart my way
To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass,
That be assur'd, without leave ask'd of thee;
Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof,

Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heaven. 173. There Tityus, nursling of the mighty Earth,

With body nine whole acres covering lies :
His entrails and his liver, still for pain
Fruitful and unconsum'd, a vulture huge
Digs with her crooked beak, which plunging deep
She hunts for food, and dwells within his heart;
No rest the fibres ever growing find.

174,

Foolish girl!
Shall Jove, thy stubborn doubts to overcome,
Turn round the planets, bid the sun stand still ?
It shall be done! Oft hath a demigod
Rent open the fire-pregnant womb o'th' rocks :
To move the firm-set earth exceeds his power :

That only Jove can do. 175.

Sir, be cheerful;
'Tis not the reeling fortune of great state,
Or low condition, that I cast mine eye at;
It is the man I seek: the rest I lose,
As things unworthy to be kept or noted:
Fortunes are but the outsides of true worth ;

It is the mind that sets his master forth. 176. There's no equality among mankind.

Fortune should wander stript of all her might,
And qualities the most conspicuous gain
Their due preeminence: whoe'er is fam'd
For strength unrivall’d, or with surest aim
Can twang the bow, or launch the spear in battle,

O'er his inferior ought to be a king. 177. If this austere, insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood ;
If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge me.
178. She fables not; I feel that I do fear

Her words set off by some superior power;
And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble,
And try her yet more strongly..

179. Where should this music be? in air or earth ?

It sounds no more : and sure it waits upon
Some god of th' island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters ;
Allaying both their fury and my passion

With its sweet air. 180. Blow, blow, and rend the heavens, thou deep-voic'd

horn!
I hear thee, and rejoice at thee. Thou summonest
To the storm of battle, thou that dost invite
With stern and welcome importunity
The warrior soul to that high festival,
Where Valour with his armed hand administers

The cup of death.
181. A man of sin diggeth up evil ;

He hath upon his lips, as it were, fire burning.
A mischievous man soweth dissension;
And a whisperer divideth friends.
A robber seduceth his companion,
And enticeth him into an evil course :
He closeth his eyes to study villany;

Silently moving his lips, he planneth its execution. 182. It is sweet to the soul to enjoy what we love;

Therefore, hateful is it to fools to forsake vice.
He who walketh with the wise shall become wise ;
But he who feedeth with fools shall be corrupted.
Evil shall pursue sinners ;
But good shall be the recompense of the just.
A good man transmitteth his inheritance to his son's

sons ;
But the wealth of the wicked is laid up for the

righteous. 183. Some pretend to be rich, and yet have nothing; Some pretend to be poor, and yet have great wealth.

The screen to a man's faults is his wealth ;
But a poor man heareth no reproof.
The light of good men shall shine with brightness ;
But the lamp of the wicked shall be extinguish’d.
A foolish man through arrogance raiseth contention ;

But with the considerate there is wisdom, 184. Array the Arab in the robe of honour,

And place a chain of gold around his neck, .
And bind around his brow the diadem,
And mount him on my steed of state,
And lead him through the camp,
And let the heralds go before and cry,
Thus shall the Sultan reward

The man who serves him well.
185. Oh, mother, hear me yet before I die.

Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times,
In this green valley, under this green hill,
Een on this hand, and sitting on this stone ?
Seal'd it with kisses ? water'd it with tears?
O happy tears, and how unlike to these !
O happy heaven, how canst thou see my face?

O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight? 186. Th' embolden'd Trojans with loud shouts press on,

And gather round him. As when hunters arm’d
Assail a savage lion, he dismay'd
With stern grim look recedes ; to turn his back
Nor wrath nor courage suffers him ; advance
He would, but cannot thro' the men and spears :
So the Rutulian his reluctant step

Still measures back, yet burns with fierce disdain. 187. L. Preferrest thou a servant to my sceptre ?

M. How many sovereigns hath that servant slain!
L. Why serves he then, and bears å sovereign's

yoke?
M. Take hardship out of life ; what then is virtue ?

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