Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me.

There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.

His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.

No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.

The mind that is wise mourns less for what age takes away; than what it leaves behind.

Wisdom married to immortal verse.

Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.