Where seas of sand toss their hot surges high nor genius should the midnight song.

Hear genius hear thy children's cry not always should thou love to brood.

A boat approach'd the wall, and eager to the welcome aid they crowd for safety all.

My days among the Dead are past;Around me I behold,Where'er these casual eyes are cast,The mighty minds of old;My never-failing friends are they,With whom I converse day by day.

The loss of a friend is like that of a limb time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.

Green moss shines there with ice encased; The long grass bends its spear-like form; And lovely is the silvery scene When faint the sun-beams smile.

Curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost.

A house is never perfectly furnished for enjoyment unless there is a child in it rising three years old, and a kitten of six weeks.

They sin who tell us love can die; / With life all other passions fly, / All others are but vanity.

The true one of youth’s love, proving a faithful help-meet in those years when the dream of life is over, and we live in its realities.