Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.

I love drinking now and then. It defecates the standing pool of thought. A man perpetually in the paroxysm and fears of inebriety is like a half-drowned stupid wretch condemned to labor unceasingly in water; but a now-and-then tribute to Bacchus is like the cold bath, bracing and invigorating.

But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lou'd sae kindly, Had we never lou'd sae blindly, Never met - or never parted - We had ne'er been broken hearted

The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know And keenly felt the friendly glow And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name!

There is no such uncertainty as a sure thing.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.