Earth helped him with the cry of blood.
And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
Every gift of noble origin Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath.
The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.
Let Nature be your teacher
I should dread to disfigure the beautiful ideal of the memories of illustrious persons with incongruous features, and to sully the imaginative purity of classical works with gross and trivial recollections.