To be young was very heaven!
Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.
Habit rules the unreflecting herd.
Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.
The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.