Where'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade. Where'er you tread the blushing flowers shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
Ask you what provocation I have had? The strong antipathy of good to bad.
Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
A field of glory is a field for all.
A good-natured man has the whole world to be happy out of.
In death a hero, as in life a friend!