Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own disgrace?
Not to understand a treasure's worth till time has stole away the slighted good, is cause of half the poverty we feel, and makes the world the wilderness it is.
An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
Meditation here may think down hours to moments. Here the heart may give a useful lesson to the head and learning wiser grow without his books.