SUPERFLUITY. SUPPLICATION. SUPPORT. 615 SUPERFLUITY. IF ye know Why ask ye, and superfluous begin Milton. His conscience cheered him with a life well spent, content. Harte. SUPPLICATION. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, No wish conceived, no thought exprest, SUPPORT. ONE adequate support Coleridge. For the calamities of mortal life Ianthe! thou art called to cross the sea! Remember while the sun his blessing sheds How often we have watcht him laying down Against each other's, and how faint and short W. S. Landor. 616 SURE, SURFACE. SURFEIT. SURE. WHO knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe The youngest in the morning are not sure The mountain rill Milton. Denham. Seeks with no surer flow the far, bright sea, SURFACE. ERRORS, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls must dive below. The deepest ice that ever froze Dryden. Can only o'er the surface close; The living stream lies quick below, Byron. SURFEIT. As surfeit is the father of much fast, They surfeited with honey; and began Shakspere. To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little Why, disease, dost thou molest Shakspere. Ben Jonson. SURPRISE. SUSPENSE. SUSPICION. SURPRISE. WITH wild surprise, As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 617 Thomson. Were his eyes open? Yes, and his mouth too;— Byron. SUSPENSE. TEN days the prophet in suspense remained, By Ithacus, he solemnly designed Me for the sacrifice. For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain Denham. A cool suspense, from pleasure or from pain.-Pope. But be not long, for in the tedious minutes, Frowde. SUSPICION. SUSPICION ever haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.-Shakspere. Suspicion is a heavy armour, and With its own weight impedes, more than it protects. And shall we all condemn, and all distrust, Byron. Of light and radiance which sleep's visions gave, Mrs. Norton. 618 SWEARING. SWEETNESS. SWEARING. A MAD-CAP ruffian, and a swearing jack, Shakspere. G. Herbert. Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise, Anon. SWEETNESS. THE summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Shakspere. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. Have you seen but a bright lily grow Have you mark'd but the fall of the snow Have you felt the wool of the beaver, Or have smell'd of the bud o'the briar? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? Shakspere. O so white! O so soft! O so sweet is she! Ben Jonson. Your words are like the notes of dying swans- Dryden. SWIFTNESS. SWIMMING. SYCOPHANT. SWIFTNESS. I GO, I go, look how I go; Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. The old Scythians 619 Shakspere. Painted blind fortune's powerful hands with wings, SWIMMING. Chapman. I SAW him beat the surges under him, With a swimmer's stroke Shakspere. Flinging the billows back from my drenched hair, SYCOPHANT. Byron. CAN a king give thee more than is his own? But then 't is slipp'ry standing for the minion: Young. |