The tulip's petals shine in dew, All beautiful, but none alike.

Who that hath ever been Could bear to be no more? Yet who would tread again the scene He trod through life before?

Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past.

We fought the Revolutionary War for no taxation without representation, it seems to me that we are much worse off today, because we are heavily taxed, and only the king's corporations control this Country, together with mob rule, of the special interests.

Here hyacinths of heavenly blue, shook their rich tresses to the morn.

Time is eternity begun.

A mother's love — how sweet the name! What is a mother's love? — A noble, pure and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold; This is a mother's love.