The first sure symptom of a mind in health Is rest of heart and pleasure felt at home.

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, "That all men are about to live."

Each moment has its sickle, emulous Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root.

The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.

'T is impious in a good man to be sad.

Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.

There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.