The lover's pleasure, like that of the hunter, is in the chase, and the brightest beauty loses half its merit, as the flower its perfume, when the willing hand can reach it too easily. There must be doubt; there must be difficulty and danger.

Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth.

But with morning cool repentance came.

No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.

A thousand fearful images and dire suggestions glance along the mind when it is moody and discontented with itself. Command them to stand and show themselves, and you presently assert the power of reason over imagination.

Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!

Time rolls his ceaseless course.