The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition of constant close contact.

What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?

What a strange scene if the surge of conversation could suddenly ebb like the tide, and show us the real state of people's minds.

Art thou a friend to Roderick?

Heaven know its time; the bullet has its billet

What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!