Byron, “Don Juan.”

The Countess [Amy Robsart] stood in the midst of her apartment like a juvenile Pythoness, under the influence of the prophetic fury. The veins in her beautiful forehead started into swollen blue lines—her cheek and neck glowed like scarlet—her eyes were like those of an imprisoned eagle.

Scott, “Kenilworth.”

Of some for glory such the boundless rage

That they’re the blackest scandal of their age.

Young.

On Butler, who can think without just rage?

The glory and the scandal of the age. Oldham.

Drayton, in one of his Elegies, says:

Next these learn’d Johnson in this list I bring,