My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.

Wisdom married to immortal verse.

All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.

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

In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration: - feelings, too, Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps, As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.

What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.

Small service is true service, while it lasts.