For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude

Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.

I'll teach my boy the sweetest things; I'll teach him how the owlet sings.

Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.

Before us lay a painful road, And guidance have I sought in duteous love From Wisdom's heavenly Father. Hence hath flowed Patience, with trust that, whatsoe'er the way Each takes in this high matter, all may move Cheered with the prospect of a brighter day.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

Rest and be thankful.