There are few writers whose text is in so satisfactory a state as Virgil's. - John Conington

Comrades and friends! for ours is strength
Has brooked the test of woes;
O worse-scarred hearts! these wounds at length
The Gods will heal, like those.

Blank verse really deserving the name I believe to be impossible except to one or two eminent writers in a generation.

Along the illimitable shade
Darkling and lone their way they made, Through the vast kingdom of the dead, An empty void, though tenanted:
So travellers in a forest move
With but the uncertain moon above,
Beneath her niggard light.