And When Midst Fallen London, They Survey

Life! We've Been Long Together Through Pleasant And Through Cloudy Weather; Tis Hard To Part When Friends Are Dear,- Perhaps 'twill Cost A Sigh, A Tear. Then Steal Away, Give Little Warning. Choose Thine Own Time, Say Not "good-night," But In Some Brighter Clime, Bid Me "good-morning."

There Is A Land, Where The Roses Are Without Thorns, Where The Flowers Are Not Mixed With Brambles. In That Land, There Is Eternal Spring, And Light Without Any Cloud. The Tree Of Life Groweth In The Midst Thereof; Rivers Of Pleasures Are There, And Flowers That Never Fade. Myriads Of Happy Spirits Are There, And Surround The Throne Of God With A Perpetual Hymn. The Angels With Their Golden Harps Sing Praises Continually, And The Cherubim Fly On Wings Of Fire! This Country Is Heaven.

Children Have Almost An Intuitive Discernment Between The Maxims You Bring Forward For Their Use, And Those By Which You Direct Your Own Conduct.

Forgotten Rimes, And College Themes, Worm-eaten Plans, And Embryo Schemes; A Mass Of Heterogeneous Matter. A Chaos Dark, Nor Land Nor Water.

Fair Venus Shines Even In The Eve Of Day, With Sweetest Beam Propitious Shines, And Shakes A Trembling Flood Of Softened Radiance From Her Dewy Locks.