Eloquence Is The Poetry Of Prose.

Thine Eyes Are Springs In Whose Serene And Silent Waters Heaven Is Seen. Their Lashes Are The Herbs That Look On Their Young Figures In The Brook.

War, Like All Other Situations Of Danger And Of Change, Calls Forth The Exertion Of Admirable Intellectual Qualities And Great Virtues, And It Is Only By Dwelling On These, And Keeping Out Of Sight The Sufferings And Sorrows, And All The Crimes And Evils That Follow In Its Train, That It Has Its Glory In The Eyes Of Men.

The Moon Is At Her Full, And Riding High, Floods The Calm Fields With Light. The Airs That Hover In The Summer Sky Are All Asleep To-night.

Heed Not The Night; A Summer Lodge Amid The Wild Is Mine, 'tis Shadowed By The Tulip-tree, 'tis Mantled By The Vine.

Truth, Crushed To Earth, Shall Rise Again.