O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, . . . I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.

No wisdom that she may gain by experience and reflection hereafter, will compensate the loss of her present hilarity.

Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.

We sacrifice to dress till household joys and comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, and keeps our larder lean.

Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.

No one was ever scolded out of their sins.