One, when a beggar he prepares to plunge;
One, when a prince he rises with his pearl?
Festus, I plunge.
Paracelsus. Part i.
God is the perfect poet,
Who in his person acts his own creations.
Paracelsus. Part ii.
The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung
To their first fault, and withered in their pride.
Paracelsus. Part iv.