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Thou And I Are But The Blind Instruments Of Some Irresistible Fatality, That Hurries Us Along, Like Goodly Vessels Driving Before The Storm, Which Are Dashed Against Each Other, And So Perish.

For A Laggard In Love, And A Dastard In War, Was To Wed The Fair Ellen Of Lochinvar.

A Mother's Pride, A Father's Joy.

It Is The Privilege Of Tale-tellers To Open Their Story In An Inn, The Free Rendezvous Of All Travellers, And Where The Humour Of Each Displays Itself, Without Ceremony Or Restraint.

True Love's The Gift Which God Has Given To Man Alone Beneath The Heaven. It Is The Secret Sympathy, The Silver Link, The Silken Tie, Which Heart To Heart, And Mind To Mind, In Body And In Soul Can Bind.