If the best man's faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat over his eyes.

And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

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.

If the best man's faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat over his eyes.

I shall be but a shrimp of an author.

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