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

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

The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.

Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.

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.

From toil he wins his spirits light, From busy day the peaceful night; Rich, from the very want of wealth, In heaven's best treasures, peace and health.

Thought would destroy their paradise.