Our Chief Comforts Often Produce Our Greatest

The Nakedness Of The Indigent World May Be Clothed From The Trimmings Of The Vain.

But Winter Lingering Chills The Lap Of May.

Blest Be Those Feasts, With Simple Plenty Crowned, Where All The Ruddy Family Around Laugh At The Jests Or Pranks That Never Fail Or Sigh With Pity At Some Mournful Tale.

Man Seems The Only Growth That Dwindles Here.

The Loud Laugh That Spoke The Vacant Mind.