| John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
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| William Collins. (17211759) |
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| 1 | | In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong. |
| Ode to Simplicity. |
| 2 | Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell: T is virtue makes the bliss, whereer we dwell. 1 |
| Oriental Eclogues. 1, Line 5. |
| 3 | How sleep the brave who sink to rest By all their countrys wishes blessd! |
| Ode written in the year 1746. |
| 4 | By fairy hands their knell is rung; 2 By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there! |
| Ode written in the year 1746. |
| 5 | When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung. |
| The Passions. Line 1. |
| 6 | | Filld with fury, rapt, inspired. |
| The Passions. Line 10. |
| 7 | | T was sad by fits, by starts t was wild. |
| The Passions. Line 28. |
| 8 | | In notes by distance made more sweet. 3 |
| The Passions. Line 60. |
| 9 | | In hollow murmurs died away. |
| The Passions. Line 68. |
| 10 | O Music! sphere-descended maid, Friend of Pleasure, Wisdoms aid! |
| The Passions. Line 95. |
| 11 | | In yonder grave a Druid lies. |
| Death of Thomson. |
| 12 | Too nicely Jonson knew the critics part; Nature in him was almost lost in Art. |
| To Sir Thomas Hammer on his Edition of Shakespeare. |
| 13 | Each lonely scene shall thee restore; For thee the tear be duly shed, Belovd till life can charm no more, And mournd till Pitys self be dead. |
| Dirge in Cymbeline. |
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