Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud, And magnify thy name Almighty God! But man is thy most awful instrument, In working out a pure intent.
Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.
In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .