Ambition Does Not See The Earth She

True Wit, To Every Man, Is That Which Falls On Another.

Patience, Piety, And Salutary Knowledge Spring Up And Ripen Under The Harrow Of Affliction; Before There Is Wine Or Oil, The Grape Must Be Trodden And The Oil Pressed.

A Smile Is Ever The Most Bright And Beautiful With A Tear Upon It. What Is The Dawn Without The Dew? The Tear Is Rendered By The Smile Precious Above The Smile Itself.

This Is The Pleasantest Part Of Life. Oblivion Throws Her Light Coverlet Over Our Infancy; And, Soon After We Are Out Of The Cradle We Forget How Soundly We Had Been Slumbering, And How Delightful Were Our Dreams. Toil And Pleasure Contend For Us Almost The Instant We Rise From It: And Weariness Follows Whichever Has Carried Us Away. We Stop Awhile, Look Around Us, Wonder To Find We Have Completed The Circle Of Existence, Fold Our Arms, And Fall Asleep Again.

O Music! How It Grieves Me That Imprudence, Intemperance, Gluttony, Should Open Their Channels Into Thy Sacred Stream.