Diffuse their balmy sweets around.
Goldsmith: The Captivity, act i.
The good are better made by ill,
As odours crushed are sweeter still.
Rogers: Jacqueline, stanza 3.
[165:2] Burton (quoted): Anatomy of Melancholy, part iii. sect. 2, memb. 5, subsect. 5.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes;
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell,