So his life has flowed

From its mysterious urn a sacred stream,

In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure

Alone are mirrored; which, though shapes of ill

May hover round its surface, glides in light,

And takes no shadow from them.

Thomas Noon Talfourd (1795-1854): Ion. Act i. Sc. 1.

We understood

Her by her sight; her pure and eloquent blood

Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought

That one might almost say her body thought.

Dr John Donne (1573-1631): Funeral Elegies. On the Death of Mistress Drury.

Meek and lowly, pure and holy,

Chief among the "blessed three."

Charles Jefferys (1807-1865): Charity.

They may seize

On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand

And steal immortal blessing from her lips,

Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,

Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,

Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): Lalla Rookh. The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan.

There is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign;

Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book ii. Hymn 66.

She was good as she was fair,

None—none on earth above her!

As pure in thought as angels are:

To know her was to love her.

Samuel Rogers (1763-1855): Jacqueline. Stanza 1.

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,

When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones.

John Milton (1608-1674): On the late Massacre in Piedmont.

The real Simon Pure.

Susannah Centlivre (1667-1723): A bold Stroke for a Wife.

O welcome, pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope,

Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 213.