"The falling of fountains—the slight summer rain— The voice of the dove, were less sweet than thy strain; Till stirred with delight, would her exquisite wings Beat time on the west wind, to echo thy strings."

"And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon."

"Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past."

"Just as the mind the erring sense believes, The erring mind, in turn, the sense deceives."

"Self is the medium thro' which Judgment's ray Can seldom pass without being turned astray."

"Patience lingers o'er the weedy shore, And, mutely waiting till the storm be o'er, Turns to young Hope, who still directs his eye To some blue spot, just breaking in the sky!"

"A Persian's heaven is easily made: 'Tis but black eyes and lemonade."

"Oft, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken!"

"I feel like one, Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed!"

"What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine."

"All that's bright must fade,— The brightest and the fleetest; All that's sweet was made, But to be lost when sweetest."

"Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumphed—his people are free."

"Oh, call it by some better name, For friendship sounds too cold."

"Come, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life, There's no longer excuse for thus playing the rake-- It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife." "Why, so it is father--whose wife shall I take?"

"Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me!"

"Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid."

"And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls."

"The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er; And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more."

"Life is a waste of wearisome hours Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns."

"Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore."

"Believe me, if all those endearing young charms Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms, Like fairy gifts fading away. Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart, Would entwine itself verdantly still."

"No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god when he sets The same look which she turn'd when he rose."