Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place--as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash--but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.

There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were.

Mark! Where his carnage and his conquests cease, He makes a solitude and calls it-peace!

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

I feel my immortality over sweep all pains, all tears, all time, all fears, - and peal, like the eternal thunders of the deep, into my ears, this truth, - thou livest forever!

He had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.