Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.

the soul of conversation is sympathy

The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.

To live in the hearts of others is not to die

Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.

An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write; but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud Philosophy To teach me what thou art.