"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."

"If thou would'st have me sing and play As once I play'd and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung."

"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."