Call it not vain: they do not err Who say that when the poet dies Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies.

It is more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of Lochinvar.

Mankind — the race would perish did they cease to aid each other.

O woman! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!

Recollect that the Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble and incapable of deceit.

The most learned, acute, and diligent student cannot, in the longest life, obtain an entire knowledge of this one volume.