And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.

All that we behold is full of blessings.

A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?

He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.

poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge