All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.

Truth crushed to the earth will rise again!

Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered.

It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.

But 'neath yon crimson tree Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame, Nor mark, within its roseate canopy, Her blush of maiden shame.

All great poets have been men of great knowledge.

Difficulty, my brethren, is the nurse of greatness - a harsh nurse, who roughly rocks her foster children into strength and athletic proportion.