Death aims with fouler spite

At fairer marks.

Robert Herrick (1591-1674): Divine Poems (ed. 1669).

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;

All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;

All discord, harmony not understood;

All partial evil, universal good;

And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,

One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle i. Line 289.

Yes, social friend, I love thee well,

In learned doctors' spite;

Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,

And lap me in delight.

Charles Sprague (1791-1875): To my Cigar.

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,

That ever I was born to set it right!

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

Still so gently o'er me stealing,

Mem'ry will bring back the feeling,

Spite of all my grief revealing,

That I love thee,—that I dearly love thee still.

Opera of La Sonnambula.

But, spite of all the criticising elves,

Those who would make us feel—must feel themselves.

Charles Churchill (1731-1764): The Rosciad. Line 961.

And force them, though it was in spite

Of Nature and their stars, to write.

Samuel Butler (1600-1680): Hudibras. Part i. Canto i. Line 647.

Thrice he assay'd, and thrice in spite of scorn

Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth.

John Milton (1608-1674): Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 619.

I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world

Have so incensed that I am reckless what

I do to spite the world.

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