Line 60.
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
Line 66.
Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain.
Line 78,
Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood; Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
Line 96.
For pity melts the mind to love.
Line 99.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor, but an empty bubble.