"His heart was one of those which most enamour us, Wax to receive, and marble to retain: He was a lover of the good old school, Who still become more constant as they cool."

"Besides, they always smell of bread and butter."

"I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all."

"Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies."

"O Mirth and Innocence! O milk and water! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days."

"How my soul hates This language, Which makes life itself a lie, Flattering dust with eternity."

"By all that's good and glorious."

"Eat, drink, and love; the rest's not worth a fillip."

"I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse — borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne — misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be — let it end."

"But take this with thee: if I was not form'd To prize a love like thine, a mind like thine, Nor dote even on thy beauty — as I've doted On lesser charms, for no cause save that such Devotion was a duty, and I hated All that look'd like a chain for me or others (This even rebellion must avouch); yet hear These words, perhaps among my last — that none E'er valued more thy virtues, though he knew not To profit by them…"

"Oh! if thou hast at length Discover'd that my love is worth esteem, I ask no more—but let us hence together, And I — let me say we — shall yet be happy. Assyria is not all the earth—we'll find A world out of our own — and be more bless'd Than I have ever been, or thou, with all An empire to indulge thee."

"The dust we tread upon was once alive."

"My best! my last friends! Let's not unman each other: part at once: All farewells should be sudden, when for ever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears. Hence, and be happy: trust me, I am not Now to be pitied; or far more for what Is past than present; — for the future, 'tis In the hands of the deities, if such There be: I shall know soon. Farewell — Farewell."

"The "good old times" — all times when old are good — Are gone."

"Where is he, the champion and the child Of all that's great or little, wise or wild; Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones; Whose table earth — whose dice were human bones?"

"While Franklin's quiet memory climbs to heaven, Calming the lightning which he thence hath riven, Or drawing from the no less kindled earth Freedom and peace to that which boasts his birth; While Washington's a watchword, such as ne'er Shall sink while there's an echo left to air."

"Sublime tobacco! which from east to west Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest."

"Jack was embarrassed — never hero more, And as he knew not what to say, he swore."

"So gleams the past, the light of other days, Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays."

"Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom. And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! Away; we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress; Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou—who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet."

"She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

"He left a corsair's name to other times, Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes."

"No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe."

"Farewell! For in that word, that fatal word,—howe'er We promise, hope, believe,—there breathes despair."

"Hope withering fled, and Mercy sighed farewell!"

"There was a laughing devil in his sneer."

"Such hath it been — shall be — beneath the sun The many still must labour for the one!"

"The power of thought,—the magic of the mind!"

"She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife."

"O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 22 Survey our empire, and behold our home! These are our realms, no limit to their sway,— Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey."

"Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried."

"The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse."

"She was a form of life and light That seen, became a part of sight, And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The morning-star of memory! Yes, love indeed is light from heaven; A spark of that immortal fire With angels shared, by Alla given, To lift from earth our low desire."

"I die — but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed."

"The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name."

"Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock."

"The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed."

"And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own, And every woe a tear can claim Except an erring sister's shame."

"For freedom's battle, once begun, Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son, Though baffled oft, is ever won."

"When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past— For years fleet away with the wings of the dove— The dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love."

"Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other's weal avail'd on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky."