How Low, How Little Are The Proud,

From Toil He Wins His Spirits Light, From Busy Day The Peaceful Night; Rich, From The Very Want Of Wealth, In Heaven's Best Treasures, Peace And Health.

Where Once My Careless Childhood Strayed, / A Stranger Yet To Pain.

I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of An Author.

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

O'er Her Warm Cheek, And Rising Bosom, Move The Bloom Of Young Desire And Purple Light Of Love.