By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!

Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.

My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man.

Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.

His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.

Spade! Thou art a tool of honor in my hands. I press thee, through a yielding soil, with pride.

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray.