Fame is the thirst of youth.

Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.

Her great merit is finding out mine; there is nothing so amiable as discernment.

Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.

Switzerland is a curst, selfish, swinish country of brutes, placed in the most romantic region of the world.

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.

Yet I did love thee to the last, As ferverently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.