Some critics are like chimney-sweepers; they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above; they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.

The day is dark and cold and dreary; it rains, and the wind is never weary.

It is foolish to pretend that one is fully recovered from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar.

If we love one another, nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen.

Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike.

Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts.

Chill air and wintry winds! My ear has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen, and it cheers me long.