How often has our observation of these changes realized the homely simile of Shakspeare: Like as the waves make towards the pebble shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

THE FAYT OF ARMES AND OF CHYVALRYE BLACK LETTER, one leaf inlaid and three or four beautifully fac-similed, otherwise a fine and perfect copy, russia extra, gilt leaves, by C. Lewis WESTMESTRE, PER CAXTON, MCCCCLXXXIX *

Rispose Orlando: Io tiro teco a un seguo, Che l'armi son del'uomo il primo onore; Ma non già che 'l saper faccia un men degno, Anzi l'adorna com' un prato il fiore; Ed è simile a un bove, a un sasso, a un legno, Che non pensa a l'eterno Creatore; Nè ben si puo pensar, senza dottrina, La somma maestade, alta e divina.

In hyperbole the step between the sublime and the ridiculous is often a very short one; yet the rose and lily simile is perpetrated by erotic poets to this day.