Women are so gentle, so affectionate, so true in sorrow, so untired and untiring! but the leaf withers not sooner, and tropic light fades not more abruptly.

I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.

Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.

The progress from infancy to boyhood is imperceptible. In that long dawn of the mind we take but little heed. The years pass by us, one by one, little distinguishable from each other. But when the intellectual sun of our life is risen, we take due note of joy and sorrow.

The sea! The sea! The open sea!, The blue, the fresh, the ever free!

The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.

Despair doth strike as deep a furrow in the brain as mischief or remorse.