The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.

I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.

Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none; / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!

And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.

Laying out grounds may be considered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.

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?