Poetry is something to make us wiser and better, by continually revealing those types of beauty and truth, which God has set in all men's souls.

That love for one, from which there doth not spring Wide love for all, is but a worthless thing.

It is only by instigation of the wrongs of men that what are called the Rights of Man become turbulent and dangerous.

Good heavens, of what un costly material is our earthly happiness composed... if we only knew it. What incomes have we not had from a flower, and how unfailing are the dividends of the seasons.

Most long lives resemble those threads of gossamer, the nearest approach to nothing unmeaningly prolonged, scarce visible pathways of some worm from his cradle to his grave.

The very gnarliest and hardest of hearts has some musical strings in it; but they are tuned differently in every one of us.

Love lives on, and hath a power to bless when they who loved are hidden in the grave.