Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength.

No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference.

Science has succeeded to poetry, no less in the little walks of children than with men. Is there no possibility of averting this sore evil?

Cultivate simplicity or rather should I say banish elaborateness, for simplicity springs spontaneous from the heart.

Oft in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken.

If thou would'st have me sing and play As once I play'd and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung.

Man, while he loves, is never quite depraved.