They Carry Back Bright To The Coiner

Therefore, Since The World Has Still Much Good, But Much Less Good Than Ill

Good Religious Poetry... Is Likely To Be Most Justly Appreciated And Most Discriminately Relished By The Undevout.

I Find Cambridge An Asylum, In Every Sense Of The Word.

I Am Not A Pessimist But A Pejorist (as George Eliot Said She Was Not An Optimist But A Meliorist); And That Philosophy Is Founded On My Observation Of The World, Not On Anything So Trivial And Irrelevant As Personal History.

When I Was One-and-twenty I Heard A Wise Man Say, `give Crowns And Pounds And Guineas But Not Your Heart Away; Give Pearls Away And Rubies But Keep Your Fancy Free.' But I Was One-and-twenty No Use To Talk To Me. When I Was One-and-twenty I Heard Him Say Again, `the Heart Out Of The Bosom Was Never Given In Vain; 'tis Paid With Sighs A Plenty And Sold For Endless Rue.' And I Am Two-and-twenty And Oh, 'tis True, 'tis True.