"Charge, Chester, charge! on, Stanley, on!" Were the last words of Marmion.

For Love will still be lord of all.

Whose lenient sorrows find relief, whose joys are chastened by their grief.

My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.

Many a law, many a commandment have I broken, but my word never.

What an ornament and safeguard is humor! Far better than wit for a poet and writer. It is a genius itself, and so defends from the insanities.

O! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word, at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!