Line 78,
Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood;
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
Line 96.
For pity melts the mind to love.
Line 99.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor, but an empty bubble.
Line 106.
Take the good the gods provide thee.
Line 120
Sighed and looked, and sighed again.
Line 154.
And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.
Line 160.
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
Line 169.
He raided a mortal to the skies
She drew an angel down.
* * * * *
_Cymon and Iphigenia_.
Line 84.
He trudged along, unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
_Absalom and Achitophet_.
A fiery soul, which, working out its way
Fretted the pigmy body to decay,
And o'er informed the tenement of clay.
Part i. Line 363
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Part i. Line 174
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state.
Part i. Line 534
Who think too little, and who talk too much
Part i. Line 545
A man so various, that he seemed to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome;
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong,
Was everything by starts, and nothing long.
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