Just as old age is creeping on space, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company--the gout or stone.
There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.
He had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
Be hypocritical, be cautious, be not what you seem but always what you see.
The dew of compassion is a tear.