And Hie Him Home, At Evening's Close,

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

Where Ignorance Is Bliss, 'tis Folly To Be Wise.

The Paths Of Glory Lead But To The Grave.

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?

Full Many A Gem Of Purest Ray Serene The Dark Unfathom'd Caves Of Ocean Bear: Full Many A Flower Is Born To Blush Unseen, And Waste Its Sweetness On The Desert Air.