We murder to dissect.

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.

Habit rules the unreflecting herd.

A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer's joy.

I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.