Repentance is but want of power to sin. Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth. By viewing Nature, Nature's handmaid, art, makes mighty things from small beginnings grow. War, he sung, is toil and trouble; honour but an empty bubble. War is the trade of kings. Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today. To die is landing on some distant shore. Tis well an old age is out, And time to begin a new. Thou strong seducer, Opportunity! Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. | 
