Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
To be young was very heaven!
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?
Faith is a passionate intuition.
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.