Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

I am ashes where once I was fire.

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.

I love not man the less, but Nature more.

Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.

Fills The air around with beauty.

If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.