Methinks I will not die quite happy without having seen something of that Rome of which I have read so much.
Thou hast had thty day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old warhorse turned out on the barren heath; thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them.
One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
For love is heaven and heaven is love.
What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?