Book 1 — BOOK I

“O goddess, sing the wrath of Peleus’ son, Achilles; sing the deadly wrath that brought Woes numberless upon the Greeks.” —Iliad, Bryant’s Trans.

“Tell me, O muse, of that sagacious man Who, having overthrown the sacred town Of Ilium, wandered far and visited The capitals of many nations, learned The customs of their dwellers, and endured Great sufferings on the deep.” —Homer, Odyssey.

“Of love and ladies, knights and arms, I sing, Of courtesies and many a daring feat.” —Ariosto, Orlando Furioso.

“I sing the pious arms and chief, who freed The Sepulchre of Christ from thrall profane; Much did he toil in thought and much in deed, Much in the glorious enterprise sustain.” —Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered.

“Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, ... Sing, heavenly muse.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“I, who erewhile the happy garden sung, By one man’s disobedience lost, now sing Recovered Paradise to all mankind, By one man’s firm obedience.” —Milton, Paradise Regained.

“Much there he suffered, And many perilles past in forreine landes, To save his people sad from victours vengefull handes,” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“And in soft bosoms dwell such mighty rage?” —Pope, Rape of the Lock.

“In heavenly spirits could such perverseness dwell?” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“An old and haughty nation proud in arms.” —Milton, Comus.

“Those three fatall Sisters, whose sad hands Doo weave the direful threads of destinie And in their wrath brake off the vitall bands.” —Spenser, Daphnaïda.

“Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life.” —Milton, Lycidas.

“Sad Clotho held the rocke [distaff], the whiles the thrid By griesly Lachesis was spun with paine, That cruell Atropos eftsoones undid, With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“Here eke that famous golden apple grew, The which emongest the gods, false Ate threw; For which th’ Idæan Ladies disagreed, Till partiall Paris dempt it Venus dew, And had of her fayre Helen for his meed.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“from all neighbor crowns Alliance and allegiance till thy hand Fail from the sceptre-staff.”

“Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control.”

“I promise thee The fairest and most loving wife in Greece.”

“And godlike Ganymede, most beautiful Of men; the gods beheld and caught him up To heaven, so beautiful was he, to pour The wine to Jove, and ever dwell with them.” —Homer, Iliad.

“flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh Half-buried in the Eagle’s down, Sole as a flying star shot thro’ the sky Above the pillar’d town.” —Tennyson, Palace of Art.

“caught in a fierce tempest shall be hurled Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Of rocking whirlwinds.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls by fits.” —Shelley, The Cloud.

“And wild winds bound within their cell.” —Tennyson, Mariana.

“Father eternal, thine is to decree; Mine, both in heaven and earth, to do thy will.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“Nor slept the winds Within their stormy caves, but rushed abroad From the four hinges of the world, and fell On the vexed wilderness.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“With howling sound, high carnival to keep, And in wild uproar all embroil both land and deep.” —Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered.

“Then forth it breakes, and with his furious blast Confounds both land and seas, and skyes doth overcast.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“The winds, as at their hour of birth, Leaning upon the ridged sea.” —Tennyson.

“And tosse the deepes, and teare the firmament, And all the world confound with wide uprore.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“The clouds their gloomy veil above them strain, Nor suffer sun or star to cheer the view. ... While aye descending night, with deeper shade, The vext and fearful billows overlayed.” —Ariosto, Orlando Furioso.

“His bold Æneas on like billows tossed In a tall ship, and all his country lost Dissolves with fear; and, both his hands upheld, Proclaims them happy when the Greeks had quelled In honorable fight.” —Waller, Of the Dangers his Majesty Escaped.

“Thrice happy, four times happy, they who fell On Troy’s wide field warring for Atreus’ sons: O, had I met my fate and perished there.” —Homer, Odyssey.

“And Simoïs, in whose bed lay many shields And helms and bodies of slain demigods.” —Homer, Iliad.

“The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, Seems to cast water on the burning Bear And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.” —Shakespeare, Othello.

“Now quivering o’er the topmost waves she rides While deep beneath the enormous gulf divides: Now launching headlong down the horrid vale, Becalmed she hears no more the howling gale.” —Falconer, Shipwreck.

“The chinks suck destruction. The heavy dead hulk On the living sea rolls an inanimate bulk.” —Shelley, Vision of the Sea.

“The sides convulsive shook on groaning beams, And, rent with labour, yawn’d their pitchy seams.” —Falconer, Shipwreck.

“I heard the wrack, As earth and sky would mingle.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies.” —Goldsmith, Deserted Village.

“Thou frownest, and old Æolus thy foe Skulks to his cavern, ’mid the gruff complaint Of all his rebel tempests. Dark clouds faint When, from thy diadem, a silver gleam Slants over blue dominion.” —Keats, Endymion.

“From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathèd horn.” —Holmes, Chambered Nautilus.

“It seem’d as there the British Neptune stood, With all his hosts of waters at command, Beneath them to submit th’ officious flood; And with his trident shov’d them off the sand.” —Dryden, Annus Mirabilis.

“Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“It was a still And calmy bay, on the one side sheltered With the brode shadow of an hoarie hill; On th’ other side an high rock towred still, That twixt them both a pleasaunt port they made, And did like an halfe theatre fulfill.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“And overhead upgrew Insuperable height of loftiest shade, Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“Its uplands sloping deck the mountain’s side, Woods over woods in gay theatric pride.” —Goldsmith, Traveller.

“In one they find a lone sequestered place, Where, to a crescent curved, the shore extends Two moony horns, that in their sweep embrace A spacious bay,—a rock the port defends; Inward it fronts, and broad to ocean bends Its back, whereon each dashing billow dies, When the wind rises and the storm descends; While here and there two lofty crags arise, Whose towers, far out at sea, salute the sailor’s eyes. Safe sleep the silent seas beneath; above, Black arching woods o’ershade the circled scene: Within, a grotto opens, in the grove, Pleasant with flowers, with moss, with ivies green, And waters warbling in the depths unseen; Needed nor twisted rope nor anchor there For weary ships.” —Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered.

“And there is a safe haven where no need Of cable is; no anchor there is cast, Nor hawsers fastened to the strand.” —Homer, Odyssey.

“A time will come, not distantly descried, When to remember ev’ry past dismay Will be no less a pleasure than a pride; Hold then courageous on, and keep, I pray, Your noble hearts in cheer for that victorious day.” —Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered.

“So spoke the apostate angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“Now had the Almighty Father from above, From the pure empyrean where he sits High throned above all highth, bent down his eye, His own works and their works at once to view.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“In vain—for rude adversity’s command Still, on the margin, of each famous land, With unrelenting ire his steps opposed, And every gate of hope against him closed.” —Falconer, Shipwreck.

“And in thy tempul I wol my banur hong, And all the armes of my companye.” —Chaucer, Knight’s Tale.

“In my heart’s temple I suspend to thee These votive wreaths of withered memory.” —Shelley, Epipsychidion.

“False Jupiter, rewardst thou virtue so? What, is not piety exempt from woe?” —Marlowe and Nash, Dido.

“There in stout Hector’s race three hundred years The Roman sceptre royal shall remain.” —Marlowe and Nash, Dido.

“He shall ascend The throne hereditary, and bound his reign With Earth’s wide bounds, his glory with the heavens.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“All loved virtue, no man was affray’d Of force, ne fraud in wight was to be found: No warre was known, no dreadfull trompets sound; Peace universall rayn’d mongst men and beasts.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“No war, or battle’s sound Was heard the world around; The idle spear and shield were high up hung; The hookèd chariot stood, Unstained with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armèd throng, And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.” —Milton, Hymn on Nativity.

“The Sonne of Maia, soone as he receiv’d That word, streight with his azure wings he cleav’d The liquid clowdes, and lucid firmament; Ne staid, till that he came with steep descent Unto the place where his prescript did showe.” —Spenser, Mother Hubbard’s Tale.

“Ho, young men! saw you, as you came, Any of all my sisters wandering here, Having a quiver girded to her side, And clothed in a spotted leopard’s skin?” —Marlowe and Nash, Dido.

“Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this island.” —Shakespeare, Tempest.

“Poor girl! put on thy stifling widow’s weed, And ’scape at once from Hope’s accursed bands, To-day thou wilt not see him, nor to-morrow, And the next day will be a day of sorrow.” —Keats, Isabella.

“So drew mankind in vain the vital air, Unformed, unfriended by those kindly cares, That health and vigor to the soul impart.” —Gray, Education and Government.

“The bird of Jove, stooped from his airy tour. Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“Around, around in ceaseless circles wheeling With clang of wings and scream, the eagle sailed.” —Shelley, The Revolt of Islam.

“Whilst with their clang the air resounds.” —Wordsworth, Excursion.

“In gliding state she wins her easy way.” —Gray, Progress of Poesy.

“Sabean odoures, from the spicy shore Of Arabie the blest.” —Milton, Paradise Lost.

“All hands employ’d the royal work grows warm: Like labouring bees on a long summer’s day. Some sound the trumpet for the rest to swarm, And some on bells of tasted lilies play; With glewy wax some new foundation lay Of virgin combs, which from the roof are hung; Some arm’d within doors upon duty stay, Or tend the sick, or educate the young.” —Dryden, Annus Mirabilis.

“Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o’erthrown Are mourned by man.” —Wordsworth, Laodamia.

“The Virgilian cry, The sense of tears in mortal things.” —Matthew Arnold, Geist’s Grave.

“Thou majestic in thy sadness at the doubtful doom of human kind.” —Tennyson.

“Such as Diana by the sandy shore Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene, Where all the nymphs have her unwares forlore [left], Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene, To seeke her game.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“When sea-born Venus guided o’er Her warrior to the Punic shore, Around that radiant head she threw In deep’ning clouds ambrosial dew: But when the Tyrian queen drew near, The light pour’d round him fresh and clear.” —Landor.

“Not great Æneas stood in plainer day, When, the dark mantling mist dissolved away, He to the Tyrians showed his sudden face, Shining with all his goddess mother’s grace: For she herself had made his countenance bright, Breathed honor on his eyes, and her own purple light.” —Dryden, Britannia Rediviva.

“Like to a golden border did appeare, Framed in goldsmithes forge with cunning hand.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“Who by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Are pregnant to good pity.” —Shakespeare, King Lear.

“What sorrow wast thou had’st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe.” —Gray, Hymn to Adversity.

“Phœbus resigns his darts, and Jove His thunder to the god of love.” —Denham, Friendship.

“Through her bones the false instilled fire Did spred it selfe and venime close inspire.” —Spenser, Faerie Queene.

“She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven That slid into my soul.” —Coleridge, Ancient Mariner.

“And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung.” —Tennyson, Locksley Hall.

“But both Dione honored they and Cupid, That as her mother, this one as her son, And said that he had sat in Dido’s lap.” —Dante, Paradiso.

“As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, And ever-living lamps depend in rows.” —Pope, Temple of Fame.

“Nor the coy maid, half willing to be prest, Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.” —Goldsmith, Deserted Village.

“He sung the secret seeds of Nature’s frame: How seas, and earth, and air, and active flame, Fell through the mighty void, and in their fall Were blindly gathered in this goodly ball. The tender soil, then stiff’ning by degrees, Shut from the bounded earth, the bounding seas. Then earth and ocean various forms disclose; And a new sun to the new world arose; And mists, condensed to clouds, obscure the sky, And clouds, dissolved, the thirsty ground supply. The rising trees the lofty mountains grace; The lofty mountains feed the savage race, Yet few, and strangers, in th’ unpeopled place. From thence the birth of man the song pursued, And how the world was lost, and how renewed.” —Dryden, Translation of Ecl. VI. Cf. Æn. VI.