Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native land-Good Night!
Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till-'t is gone, and all is gray.
Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda water the day after.
I suppose we shall soon travel by air-vessels; make air instead of sea voyages; and at length find our way to the moon, in spite of the want of atmosphere.