There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be,- In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea, Or in the wide desert where no life is found.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

How widely its agencies vary,- To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,- As even its minted coins express, Now stamp'd with the image of Good Queen Bess, And now of a Bloody Mary.

I resolved that, like the sun, as long as my day lasted, I would look on the bright side of everything.

Fuss is the froth of business.

When Eve upon the first of Men The apple press'd with specious cant, Oh! what a thousand pities then That Adam was not Adamant!

Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!