That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.

Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.

And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.

Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.

Like an army defeated the snow hath retreated.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.