The castled crag of Drachenfels, Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine.

Pure friendship's well-feigned blush.

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

Marriage, from love, like vinegar from wine-- A sad, sour sober beverage--by time Is sharpened from its high celestial flavor Down to a very homely household savor.

Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.

In solitude, where we are least alone.

I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.