No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.

Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.

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.

Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.

Experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow.

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

Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!