A good deal of philanthropy arises in general from mere vanity and love of distinction gilded over to others and to themselves with some show of benevolent sentiment.

To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.

It is only when I dally with what I am about, look back and aside, instead of keeping my eyes straight forward, that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart.

Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.

Honour is a homicide and a bloodspiller, that gangs about making frays in the street; but Credit is a decent honest man, that sits at hame and makes the pat play.

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!

Land of my sires! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand!