Farewell, Farewell! But This I Tell To

He Knows Well The Evening Star, And Once When He Awoke, In A Most Distressful Mood (some Inward Pain Had Made Up That Strange Thing, An Infant's Dream), I Hurried With Him To Our Orchard Plot, And He Beheld The Moon, And Hushed At Once. Suspends His Sobs And Laughs Most Silently. While His Fair Eyes, That Swam With Undropped Tears, Did Glitter In The Yellow Moonbeam.

Happiness Can Be Built Only On Virtue, And Must Of Necessity Have Truth For Its Foundation.

About, About, In Reel And Rout The Death Fires Danced At Night.

History Has A Point Of View; It Cannot Be All Things To All People.

When The Whole And The Parts Are Seen At Once, As Mutually Producing And Explaining Each Other, As Unity In Multeity, There Results Shapeliness.