The mind of the scholar, if he would leave it large and liberal, should come in contact with other minds.

Give what you have. To some one, it may be better than you dare to think.

All sense of hearing and of sight enfold in the serene delight and quietude of sleep.

The dawn is not distant, nor is the night starless; love is eternal.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!

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.