If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
_Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc_.. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But when I think on all my wrongs,
My blood is liquid flame.
_Marmion, Canto VI_. SIR W. SCOTT.
Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IX_. MILTON.
ROD, THE.
I pray ye, flog them upon all occasions.
It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
_Don Juan, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.
Love is a boy by poets styled;
Then spare the rod and spoil the child.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.
Whipping, that's virtue's governess,
Tutoress of arts and sciences;
That mends the gross mistakes of nature,
And puts new life into dull matter;
That lays foundation for renown,
And all the honors of the gown.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.
ROMANCE.
Parent of golden dreams, Romance!
Auspicious queen of childish joys,
Who lead'st along, in airy dance,
Thy votive train of girls and boys.
_To Romance_. LORD BYRON.
He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
And banner waves, and trumpet sounds,
And ladies ride with hawk on wrist,
And mighty warriors sweep along,
Magnified by the purple mist,
The dusk of centuries and of song.
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