Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er.

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?

For he that does good, having the unlimited power to do evil, deserves praise not only for the good which he performs, but for the evil which he forbears.

Women are but the toys which amuse our lighter hours---ambition is the serious business of life.

The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have know a better day.

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.

There is a vulgar incredulity, which in historical matters, as well as in those of religion, finds it easier to doubt than to examine.