In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.

Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.

Science appears but what in truth she is, Not as our glory and our absolute boast, But as a succedaneum, and a prop To our infirmity.

The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.

We live by admiration, hope and love.

To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.