Line 560.

I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the rib of Death.

LYCIDAS.

Line 10.

He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.

Line 14.

Without the meed of some melodious tear.

Line 70.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of n.o.ble minds) To scorn delights and live laborious days; But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life.

Line 101.

Built in the eclipse and rigged with curses dark.

Line 109.

The pilot of the Galilean lake.

Line 168.

So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, with new spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.

Line 198.

To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.

L'ALLEGRO.

Line 27.

Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles.

Line 33.

Come, and trip it as you go, On the light, fantastic toe.

Line 67.

And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Line 79.

Where perhaps some beauty lies, The Cynosure of neighboring eyes.

Line 117.

Towered cities please us then, And the busy hum of men.

Line 133.

Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.

Line 136.

Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out.

IL PENSEROSO.

Line 39.

And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.

Line 61.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy!

Line 106.