A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.

Each Age Has Deemed The New-born Year The Fittest Time For Festal Cheer.

Come Forth, Old Man,--thy Daughter's Side Is Now The Fitting Place For Thee: When Time Has Quell'd The Oak's Bold Pride, The Youthful Tendril Yet May Hide, The Ruins Of The Parent Tree.

Every Hour Has Its End.

Many Miles Away There's A Shadow On The Door Of A Cottage On The Shore Of A Dark Scottish Lake.

Many A Law, Many A Commandment Have I Broken, But My Word Never.