Conjure with 'em,—

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.

Now, in the names of all the gods at once,

Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,

That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Julius Caesar. Act i. Sc. 2.

There's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms

As rum and true religion.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Don Juan. Canto ii. Stanza 34.

All things that are,

Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.

How like a younker or a prodigal

The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,

Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!

How like the prodigal doth she return,

With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails,

Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise

(That last infirmity of noble mind)

To scorn delights, and live laborious days;

But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,

And think to burst out into sudden blaze,

Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears

And slits the thin-spun life.

John Milton (1608-1674): Lycidas. Line 70.

He was exhal'd; his great Creator drew

His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.

John Dryden (1631-1701): On the Death of a very young Gentleman.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on,—

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.

John Keats (1795-1821): Ode on a Grecian Urn.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

And his affections dark as Erebus.

Let no such man be trusted.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merchant of Venice. Act v. Sc. 1.

Were 't the last drop in the well,

As I gasp'd upon the brink,

Ere my fainting spirit fell

'T is to thee that I would drink.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: To Thomas Moore.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds,

Exhilarate the spirit, and restore

The tone of languid nature.

William Cowper (1731-1800): The Task. Book i. The Sofa. Line 181.

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,

The extravagant and erring spirit hies

To his confine.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1.

Calm on the bosom of thy God,

Fair spirit, rest thee now!

John Keble (1792-1866): Siege of Valencia. Scene ix.

Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed

A fairer spirit or more welcome shade.

Thomas Tickell (1686-1740): On the Death of Mr. Addison. Line 45.

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place,

With one fair spirit for my minister,

That I might all forget the human race,

And hating no one, love but only her!

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 177.

All plumed like estridges that with the wind

Baited like eagles having lately bathed;

Glittering in golden coats, like images;

As full of spirit as the month of May,

And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.

To God the Father, God the Son,

And God the Spirit, Three in One,

Be honour, praise, and glory given

By all on earth, and all in heaven.

Isaac Watts (1674-1748): Doxology.

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,

The extravagant and erring spirit hies

To his confine.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1.

He was exhal'd; his great Creator drew

His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.

John Dryden (1631-1701): On the Death of a very young Gentleman.

Who first invented work, and bound the free

And holiday-rejoicing spirit down

   .   .   .   .   .   .

To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?

   .   .   .   .   .   .

Sabbathless Satan!

Charles Lamb (1775-1834): Work.

The best of men

That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer;

A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit,

The first true gentleman that ever breathed.

Thomas Dekker (1572-1632): The Honest Whore. Part i. Act i. Sc. 12.

I am thy father's spirit,

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part

And each particular hair to stand an end,

Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5.

There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with 't.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

Thy spirit, Independence, let me share;

Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,

Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,

Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.

Tobias Smollett (1721-1771): Ode to Independence.

Ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.

New Testament: 1 Peter iii. 4.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

And his affections dark as Erebus.

Let no such man be trusted.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merchant of Venice. Act v. Sc. 1.

It faded on the crowing of the cock.

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long:

And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;

The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,

So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1.

This morning, like the spirit of a youth

That means to be of note, begins betimes.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Antony and Cleopatra. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,

Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 3.

Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;

Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;

Between two blades, which bears the better temper;

Between two horses, which doth bear him best;

Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,—

I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment;

But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,

Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry VI. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,

And all save the spirit of man is divine?

Lord Byron 1788-1824: The Bride of Abydos. Canto i. Stanza 1.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,

Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place

A limit to the giant's unchained strength,

Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?

William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878): The Ages. xxxiii.

Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,

A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,

He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

William Knox (1789-1825): Mortality.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: The Dream. Stanza 3.

Give unto me, made lowly wise,

The spirit of self-sacrifice;

The confidence of reason give,

And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Ode to Duty.

When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim,

Hath put a spirit of youth in everything.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Sonnet xcviii.

Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,—

One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.

James Russell Lowell (1819-1891): Sonnet xxxiv. (Ed. 1844.)

Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed

A fairer spirit or more welcome shade.

Thomas Tickell (1686-1740): On the Death of Mr. Addison. Line 45.

A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822): Adonais. xxxii.

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5.

Hark! they whisper; angels say,

Sister spirit, come away!

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Dying Christian to his Soul.

My little spirit, see,

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act iii. Sc. 5.

Yet sometimes, when the secret cup

Of still and serious thought went round,

It seemed as if he drank it up,

He felt with spirit so profound.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Matthew.

In the desert a fountain is springing,

In the wide waste there still is a tree,

And a bird in the solitude singing,

Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Stanzas to Augusta.

The strongest and the fiercest spirit

That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book ii. Line 44.

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort

As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit

That could be moved to smile at anything.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Julius Caesar. Act i. Sc. 2.

Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee

And cherish'd thine image for years;

Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee,

In secret, in silence, and tears.

Mrs. (David) Porter: Thou hast wounded the Spirit.

Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell

From heaven; for ev'n in heaven his looks and thoughts

Were always downward bent, admiring more

The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold,

Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd

In vision beatific.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 679.

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;

To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;

This sensible warm motion to become

A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit

To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside

In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;

To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,

And blown with restless violence round about

The pendent world.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The kindest man,

The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit

In doing courtesies.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The spirit walks of every day deceased.

Edward Young (1684-1765): Night thoughts. Night ii. Line 180.

Let no man value at a little price

A virtuous woman's counsel; her wing'd spirit

Is feather'd oftentimes with heavenly words.

George Chapman (1557-1634): The Gentleman Usher. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place,

With one fair spirit for my minister,

That I might all forget the human race,

And hating no one, love but only her!

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 177.

That great brow

And the spirit-small hand propping it.

Robert Browning (1812-1890): By the Fireside. xxiii.

O, now, for ever

Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!

Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars

That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!

Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,

The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,

The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!

And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats

The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,

Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Othello. Act iii. Sc. 3.