Lycidas. Line 70.

Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.

Lycidas. Line 78.

It was that fatal and perfidious bark,

Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark.

Lycidas. Line 100.

The pilot of the Galilean lake;

Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).

Lycidas. Line 109.