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— William Blake

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?

Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:

Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Or Love in a golden bowl?

…

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noun

One who, or that which, accelerates.

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XXVIII.

16 lines
Edmund Spenser·1552–1599
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he laurel-leafe which you this day doe weareGives me great hope of your relenting mynd:For since it is the badge which I doe beare*,Ye, bearing it, doe seeme to me inclind.The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find,Let it likewise your gentle brest inspireWith sweet infusion, and put you in mindOf that proud mayd whom now those leaves attyre:Proud Daphne, scorning Phœbus lovely** fyre,On the Thessalian shore from him did flie;For which the gods, in theyr revengefull yre,Did her transforme into a laurell-tree.Then fly no more, fayre Love, from Phebus chace,But in your brest his leafe and love embrace.[* I. e. as poet-laureate.][** _Lovely_, loving.]
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