Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways

All human race, from China to Peru, Pleasure, howe’er disguis’d by art, pursue.

O! what's a table richly spread Without a woman at its head!

We are apt to form romantic and exaggerated notions about the moral innocence of our ancestors. Ages of ignorance and simplicity are thought to be ages of purity. The direct contrary, I believe, is the case...In the middle ages, not only …

Ye fetted pinnacles, ye fanes sublime, Ye towers that wear the mossy vest of time; Ye massy piles of old munificence, At once the pride of learning and defence; Ye cloisters pale, that, lengthening to the sight, To contemplation, step by …

The sunn must lend his goulden beames, Soft windes their breath, green trees their shade, Sweete fields their flowers, cleare springs their streams, Ere such another smyle bee made.

Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice, And with that boding cry Why o'er the waves dost fly? O, rather, bird, with me Through the fair land rejoice!