Nothing Is More Completely The Child Of

O Come Ye In Peace Here, Or Come Ye In War, Or To Dance At Our Bridal, Young Lord Lochinvar?

He That Would Soothe Sorrow Must Not Argue On The Vanity Of The Most Deceitful Hopes.

When Thinking About Companions Gone, We Feel Ourselves Doubly Alone.

In Peace, Love Tunes The Shepherd's Reed; In War, He Mounts The Warrior's Steed; In Halls, In Gay Attire Is Seen; In Hamlets, Dances On The Green. Love Rules The Court, The Camp, The Grove, And Men Below, And Saints Above; For Love Is Heaven, And Heaven Is Love.

I Did Not Myself Set A High Estimation On Wealth, And Had The Affectation Of Most Young Men Of Lively Imagination, Who Suppose That They Can Better Dispense With The Possession Of Money, Than Resign Their Time And Faculties To The Labour Necessary To Acquire It.