From the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with light his blended colors glow. . . . . The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.

Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.

Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.

Eat, drink and love...the rest is not worth a nickel

Grief should be the instructor of the wise; Sorrow is Knowledge.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep.

If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.