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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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XVII.

26 lines
John Dryden·1631–1700
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s after Numa's peaceful reign,The martial Ancus[59] did the sceptre wield,Furbished the rusty sword again,Resumed the long-forgotten shield,And led the Latins to the dusty field;So James the drowsy genius wakesOf Britain long entranced in charms,Restiff and slumbering on its arms;'Tis roused, and, with a new-strung nerve, the spear already shakes.No neighing of the warrior steeds,No drum, or louder trumpet, needsTo inspire the coward, warm the cold;His voice, his sole appearance, makes them bold,Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow;Too well the vigour of that arm they know;They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal foe.Long may they fear this awful prince,And not provoke his lingering sword;Peace is their only sure defence,Their best security his word.In all the changes of his doubtful state,His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate;For him to promise is to make it fate.His valour can triumph o'er land and main;With broken oaths his fame he will not stain;With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious gain.
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