I wish I were with some of the wild people that run in the woods, and know nothing about accomplishments!

Time never bears such moments on his wing as when he flies too swiftly to be marked.

It ever is the marked propensity of restless and aspiring minds to look into the stretch of dark futurity.

Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar.

A good man's prayers will from the deepest dungeon climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.

I wish I were with some of the wild people that run in the woods, and know nothing about accomplishments!

My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.