Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold.

A wise skepticism is the first attribute of a good critic.

His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity-Zekle.

Whatever you may be sure of, be sure of this, that you are dreadfully like other people.

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold.

Old events have modern meanings; only that survives of past history which finds kindred in all hearts and lives.

Who's not sat tense before his own heart's curtain.