The quotation on page 228 does not exactly end Temple's garden essay, as Lamb says.

A sudden face, Cold daylight, footsteps, cries; The temple's naked, shining space, Aglare with judging eyes.

His best known literary work, Gulliver's Travels, was done here; but the bitterness of life grew slowly to insanity, and a frightful personal sorrow, of which he never spoke, reached its climax in the death of Esther Johnson, a beautiful young woman, who had loved Swift ever since the two had met in Temple's household, and to whom he had written his Journal to Stella.

Finally, this life became so intolerable that he took holy orders and went to a little parish in Ireland; but after a stay of eighteen months he returned to Moor Park, where he remained until Temple's death in 1699.

But one that watched beheld her: for albeit he was at sheep-gathering Pytho, yet was the temple's king Loxias aware thereof, beside his unerring partner, for he gave heed to his own wisdom, his mind that knoweth all things; in lies it hath no part, neither in act or thought may god or man deceive him.

Temple's garden at Moor Park was one of the most beautiful of its kind; but at the time when Evelyn introduced ornamental gardening into England, there were no examples for imitation.

The brazen gates lead to the temple's side, The stairs ascend and up the stages glide.

Without the temple's doors the monster lays, And Ishtar o'er the towers the bulk surveys; She spurns the carcass, cursing thus, she cries: "Woe! woe to Izdubar, who me defies!

No fairer pilgrims ever came Within the temple's stately door; No sweeter picture could it frame Than that upon its marble floor, When, in the hush of dawning day, The lovely trio knelt to pray.

Beside them rose the cherished blocks of stone Which once had graced the Temple's sacred court; It was the "Day of Wailing", and the Jews, A poor scant remnant of their outcast race, Had gathered there, as is their weekly wont, To read of all the glories they have lost, And count their endless list of shattered hopes.

Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon, The passion poesy, glories infinite, p. 4. So plenteously all weed-hidden roots, p. 6. ...

To behold her was to behold all that man finds most fascinating in woman, but so illumined by the soul within that to look on it with man's eye for charms feminine seemed somewhat like casting sensuous glances upon beauty enmarbled in a temple's fane.

" They stood within the temple's silent dome,

His steps the avenging gods may mock Within the very Temple's wall, Or mingle with the crowds that flock To yonder solemn scenic hall.

At last, in desperate mood, they sought once more The Temple's porches, searched in vain before; They found him seated with the ancient men, The grim old rufflers of the tongue and pen, Their bald heads glistening as they clustered near, Their gray beards slanting as they turned to hear, Lost in half-envious wonder and surprise That lips so fresh should utter words so wise.

But Mary, faithful to its lightest word, Kept in her heart the sayings she had heard, Till the dread morning rent the Temple's veil, And shuddering Earth confirmed the wondrous tale.

248, 250; judges, as, iii. 346; Temple's proposed reform, ii. 421.

we saw him shoot athwart the temple's vault, which opened under his feet; and with him were two virgins, who issued from the temples of Artemis and Athena.

"The blue sky is the temple's arch, Its transept earth and air, The music of its starry march

[Footnote 4: See Sir W. Temple's Essay on Heroic Virtue, Section 4. 'This part of Scythia, in its whole Northern extent, I take to have been the vast Hive out of which issued so many mighty swarms of barbarous nations,' &c.

The next morning by nine o'clock Miss Hotham (she must forgive me twenty years hence for saying she was eleven, for I recollect she is but ten), arrived at Lady Temple's, her face and neck all spotted with saffron, and limping.

She was the daughter of Sir William Temple's steward; and the concealed but undoubted wife of doctor Swift.

The darkness concealed the blood, the reflections and the golds, hid the temple's farther sides, drowned the supernumeraries of the crime enshrouded in their dead colors, and, only sparing the aquerelle whites, revealed the woman's jewels and heightened her nudity.

The day was still, the sun's bright glare Fell sheer upon the Temple's beauteous wall Withered by tropic heat, the air Let, like a bird, its listless pinions fall.

SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE'S ESSAY ON GARDENS, together with other Carolean Essays on Gardens.