With the tears a Land hath shed. Their graves should ever be green.

What probing deep Has ever solved the mystery of sleep?

The ring of a false coin is not more recognizable than that of a rhyme setting forth a false sorrow.

All the best sands of my life are somehow getting into the wrong end of the hourglass. If I could only reverse it! Were it in my power to do sowould I?

Imagine all human beings swept off the face of the earth, excepting one man. Imagine this man in some vast city, New York or London. Imagine him on the third or fourth day of his solitude sitting in a house and hearing a ring at the door-bell!

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.

O Liberty...! is it well To leave the gates unguarded?