Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, and robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
the soul of conversation is sympathy
Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save.
Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.