His sons—the fairest of her daughters, Eve.
Milton’s Paradise Lost.
The loveliest pair
That ever since in love’s embraces met.—Ib. B. iv.
Swift, being an Irishman, of course abounds in blunders, some of them of the most ludicrous character; but we should hardly expect to find in the elegant Addison, the model of classical English, such a singular inaccuracy as the following:—
So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains
Of rushing torrents and descending rains.—Cato.
He must have seen in a blaze of blinding light (this is “ipsis Hibernis Hibernior”) the vanity and evil, the folly and madness, of the worldly or selfish, and the grandeur and truth of the disinterested and Christian life.—Gilfillan’s Bards of the Bible.
The real and peculiar magnificence of St. Petersburgh consists in thus sailing apparently upon the bosom of the ocean, into a city of palaces.—Sedgwick’s Letters from the Baltic.
The astonished Yahoo, smoking, as well as he could, a cigar, with which he had filled all his pockets.—Warren’s Ten Thousand a Year.