Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest; Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by.

If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.

The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.

Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last.

Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.

Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors may be said to search in the roots of the tree for those fruits which the branches ought to produce.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall.