Say not 'Good-night' but in some brighter clime, bid me 'Good-morning.'

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

Forgotten rimes, and college themes, Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes; A mass of heterogeneous matter. A chaos dark, nor land nor water.

we should contract our ideas of education, and expect no more from it than it is able to perform.

Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?

So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.

It would be difficult to determine whether the age is growing better or worse; for I think our plays are growing like sermons, and our sermons like plays.