E'en From The Tomb The Voice Of

The Time Will Come, When Thou Shalt Lift Thine Eyes To Watch A Long-drawn Battle In The Skies. While Aged Peasants, Too Amazed For Words, Stare At The Flying Fleets Of Wondrous Birds.

Youth Smiles Without Any Reason. It Is One Of Its Chiefest Charms.

For Who, To Dumb Forgetfulness A Prey, This Pleasing Anxious Being E'er Resign'd, Left The Warm Precincts Of The Cheerful Day, Nor Cast One Longing Ling'ring Look Behind?

The Different Steps And Degrees Of Education May Be Compared To The Artificer's Operations Upon Marble; It Is One Thing To Dig It Out Of The Quarry, And Another To Square It, To Give It Gloss And Lustre, Call Forth Every Beautiful Spot And Vein, Shape It Into A Column, Or Animate It Into A Statue.

The Curfew Tolls The Knell Of Parting Day, The Lowing Herd Winds Slowly O'er The Lea, The Ploughman Homeward Plods His Weary Way, And Leaves The World To Darkness And To Me.