Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.
Love rules the camp, the court, the grove - for love is Heaven, and Heaven is love.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.