Jasmine Is Sweet, And Has Many Loves.

I Remember, I Remember The Fir-trees Dark And High; I Used To Think Their Slender Tops Were Close Against The Sky; It Was A Childish Ignorance, But Now 't Is Little Joy To Know I'm Farther Off From Heaven Than When I Was A Boy.

Dear Bells! How Sweet The Sound Of Village Bells When On The Undulating Air They Swim!

When Eve Upon The First Of Men The Apple Press'd With Specious Cant, Oh! What A Thousand Pities Then That Adam Was Not Adamant!

How Bless'd The Heart That Has A Friend. A Sympathizing Ear To Lend.

Pity It Is To Slay The Meanest Thing.