Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives.

Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great.

The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house, full of gloom and haunted by ghosts.

Think not because no man sees, such things will remain unseen.

Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again.

It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.

The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.