The heart-sick faintness of the hope delayed!

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

I have heard men talk about the blessings of freedom," he said to himself, "but I wish any wise man would teach me what use to make of it now that I have it.

Vengeance to God alone belongs; But, when I think of all my wrongs My blood is liquid flame!

The Book of Books Within this ample volume lies The mystery of mysteries. Happiest they of human race To whom their God has given grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, to force the way; But better had they ne'er been born That read to doubt or read to scorn.

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

Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.