Sterne.—Tristram Shandy, Vol. IX. Chap. 6.

AMONG.— I stood
Among them, but not of them.

Byron.—Childe Harold, Canto III. Stanza 113.

ANGEL.—“In a fortnight or three weeks,” added my uncle Toby, smiling, “he might march.” “He will never march, an’ please your honour, in this world,” said the corporal. “He will march,” said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed, with one shoe off. “An’ please your honour,” said the corporal, “he will never march but to his grave.” “He shall march,” cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch; “he shall march to his regiment.” “He cannot stand it,” said the corporal. “He shall be supported,” said my uncle Toby. “He’ll drop at last,” said the corporal, “and what will become of his boy?” “He shall not drop,” said my uncle Toby, firmly. “A-well-a-day! do what we can for him,” said Trim, maintaining his point, “the poor soul will die.” “He shall not die, by G!” cried my uncle Toby. The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to Heaven’s chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.

Sterne.—Tristram Shandy, Vol. VI. Chap. VIII.

But sad as angels for the good man’s sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

Campbell.—Pleasures of Hope, Part II.

And thus, like to an angel o’er the dying
Who die in righteousness, she lean’d.

Byron.—Don Juan, Canto II. Stanza 144.

O, the more angel she,
And you the blacker devil!

Shakespeare.—Othello, Act V. Scene 2. (Emilia to Othello.)

  By PanEris using Melati.

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