These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.
Of all that is most beauteous, imaged there In happier beauty; more pellucid streams, An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams.
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.