E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!

Men will believe anything at all provided they are under no obligation to believe it.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

The meanest flowret of the vale, / The simplest note that swells the gale, / The common sun, the air, and skies, / To him are opening paradise.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?

One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame.