Form'd by thy converse, happily to steer

From grave to gay, from lively to severe.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle iv. Line 379.

So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity,

That when a soul is found sincerely so,

A thousand liveried angels lackey her,

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt,

And in clear dream and solemn vision

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear,

Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants

Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape.

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 453.

There studious let me sit,

And hold high converse with the mighty dead.

James Thomson (1700-1748): The Seasons. Winter. Line 431.