A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!

The Cardinal is at his wit's end - it is true that he had not far to go.

I cannot describe to you the despairing sensation of trying to do something for a man who seems incapable or unwilling to do anything further for himself.

Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.

On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.

Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.