While rose-buds scarcely show'd their hue, But coyly linger'd on the thorn.

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.

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

Two roses on one slender spray In sweet communion grew, Together hailed the morning ray And drank the evening dew.

Tis human actions paint the chart of time.

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.

When to the cross I turn my eyes,And rest on Calvary,O Lamb of God, my sacrifice,I must remember Thee.