The wealthiest man among us is the best
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.
A genial hearth, a hospitable board, and a refined rusticity.
The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.
Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.