ne 274.

=Midnight.=

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:--
Lovers to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
1183
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Midnight brought on the dusky hour
Friendliest to sleep and silence.
1184
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. v., Line 667.

'T is midnight now. The bent and broken moon,
Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles,
Hangs silent on the purple walls of heaven.
1185
JOAQUIN MILLER: _Ina,_ Sc. 2.

=Milton.=

That mighty orb of song,
The divine Milton.
1186
WORDSWORTH: _Excursion,_ Bk. i.

=Mind.=

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
1187
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 254.

Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.
1188
ROBERT BROWNING: _Paracelsus,_ Sc. 3.

Though man a thinking being is defined,
Few use the grand prerogative of mind.
1189
JANE TAYLOR: _Essays in Rhyme,_ Essay i., St. 45.

My mind to me a kingdom is;
Such present joys therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss
That earth affords or grows by kind.
1190
EDWARD DYER: _Ms. Rawl.,_ 85, p. 17.

=Mirth.=

More merry tears
The passion of loud laughter never shed.
1191
SHAKS.: _Mid. N. Dream,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In heav'n yclept Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth.
1192
MILTON: _L'Allegro,_ Line 11.

As Tammie glow'red, amazed and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
1193
BURNS: _Tam o' Shanter._

=Mischief.=

O, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
1194
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

When to mischief mortals bend their will,
How soon they find fit instruments of ill!
1195
POPE: _R. of the Lock,_ Canto iii., St. 125.

=Misery.=

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.
1196
SHAKS.: _Rom. and Jul.,_ Act v., Sc. 1.

Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev'n to gods is misery.
1197
POPE: _Odyssey,_ Bk. v., Line 572.

=Misfortune.=

One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
So fast they follow.
1198
SHAKS.: _Hamlet,_ Act iv., Sc. 7.

As if Misfortune made the throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy but the great.
1199
NICHOLAS ROWE: _Fair Penitent. Prologue._

=Mobs.=

You have many enemies that know not
Why they are so, but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do.
1200
SHAKS.: _Henry VIII.,_ Act ii., Sc. 4.