Ah! Let Us Love, My

The Death Of A Man's Wife Is Like Cutting Down An Ancient Oak That Has Long Shaded The Family Mansion. Henceforth The Glare Of The World, With Its Cares And Vicissitudes Falls Upon The Old Widower's Heart, And There Is Nothing To Break Their Force, Or Shield Him From The Full Weight Of Misfortune. It Is As If His Right Hand Were Withered; As If One Wing Of His Angel Was Broken, And Every Movement That He Made Brought Him To The Ground.

Kindness Is Virtue Itself.

All Nature Is The Temple; Earth The Altar.

France Is Revolutionary Or She Is Nothing At All. The Revolution Of1789 Is Her Political Religion.

Friendship, Sweet-resting Place Of The Soul, The Gloaming Wherein Our Hearts Find Peace.