o'er

Rock'd in the deep Flora will keep Watch o'er your weary head. Chorus Burned are our homes, exile and death, Scattered the loyal men.

That parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings: but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.

I am in blood Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er. Ambition is no bad thing, as long as it's tempered.

It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

Borne o'er the cruel firmament become Ethel\n That Fred hath usurp'st from her the silence\n When lo! Upon them should harrow a fatherhood\n Of parent, Fred besieged by the burden\n And his daughter the indifferent imposition of child\n\nSounds great!

So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try, Mount o'er the Vales, and seem to tread the Sky; Th' Eternal Snows appear already past, And the first Clouds and Mountains seem the last: But those attain'd, we tremble to survey The growing Labours of the lengthen'd Way, Th' increasing Prospect tires our wandering Eyes, Hills peep o'er Hills, and Alps on Alps arise! Also, "Before the gates of excellence, the high gods have placed sweat" -Hesiod I've had similar issues as the OP, though at university I accepted lower marks than I could have gotten because I simply didn't want to go to class.