When Alexander Had Subdued The World, And

Happiness Is A Sunbeam Which May Pass Through A Thousand Bosoms Without Losing A Particle Of Its Original Ray; Nay, When It Strikes On A Kindred Heart, Like The Converged Light On A Mirror, It Reflects Itself With Redoubled Brightness. It Is Not Perfected Till It Is Shared.

It Is Not Designed That The Road Should Be Made Too Smooth For Us Here Upon Earth.

The Platform Or The Altar Of Love May Be Analyzed And Explained; It Is Constructed Of Virtue, Beauty, And Affection. Such Is The Pyre, Such Is The Offering; But The Ethereal Spark Must Come From Heaven, That Lights The Sacrifice.

How Different Is The Ready Hand, Tearful Eye, And Soothing Voice, From The Ostentatious Appearance Which Is Called Pity.

In The Career Of Female Fame, There Are Few Prizes To Tie Obtained Which Can Vie With The Obscure State Of A Beloved Wife Or A Happy Mother.