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To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious read more
To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious want,
And, consecrated by the heaven within it,
The sky-blue pool a font.
Doe what thou oughtest, and come what come can.
Doe what thou oughtest, and come what come can.
But when to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill.
But when to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill.
The smell of money is good, come whence it may. [Alluding to
Vespasian's tax on ordure.]
The smell of money is good, come whence it may. [Alluding to
Vespasian's tax on ordure.]
Such men as fortune raises from a mean estate to the highest
elevation by way of a joke.
Such men as fortune raises from a mean estate to the highest
elevation by way of a joke.
He that hath no good trade, it is to his losse.
He that hath no good trade, it is to his losse.
He that praiseth himselfe spattereth himselfe.
He that praiseth himselfe spattereth himselfe.
Love makes a good eye squint.
Love makes a good eye squint.
You may be on land, yet not in a garden.
You may be on land, yet not in a garden.
