Oh For A Seat In

Central Depth Of Purple, Leaves More Bright Than Rose, Who Shall Tell What Brightest Thought Out Of Darkness Grows? Who, Through What Funereal Pain, Souls To Love And Peace Attain? - Leigh Hunt (james Henry Leigh Hunt

Night's Deepest Gloom Is But A Calm; That Soothes The Weary Mind: The Labored Days Restoring Balm; The Comfort Of Mankind.

Bread, Milk And Butter Are Of Venerable Antiquity. They Taste Of The Morning Of The World.

Some Tears Belong To Us Because We Are Unfortunate; Others, Because We Are Humane; Many, Because We Are Mortal. But Most Are Caused By Our Being Unwise. It Is These Last Only That Of Necessity Produce More.

A Dog Can Have A Friend; He Has Affections And Character, He Can Enjoy Equally The Field And The Fireside; He Dreams, He Caresses, He Propitiates; He Offends, And Is Pardoned; He Stands By You In Adversity; He Is A Good Fellow.