Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode.
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.