Learning Is Better Worth Than Houses Or

A Sly Old Fish, Too Cunning For The Hook.

To Every Class We Have A School Assign'd, Rules For All Ranks, And Food For Every Mind: Yet One There Is, That Small Regard To Rule Or Study Pays, And Still Is Deem'd A School; That, Where A Deaf, Poor, Patient Widow Sits, And Awes Some Thirty Infants As She Knits; Infants Of Humble, Busy Wives, Who Pay Some Trifling Price For Freedom Through The Day. At This Good Matron's Hut The Children Meet, Who Thus Becomes The Mother Of The Street.

See Time Has Touched Me Gently In His Race, And Left No Odious Furrows In My Face.

Dreams Are Like Portraits; And We Find They Please Because They Are Confessed Resemblances.

We Cannot Heal The Throbbing Heart Till We Discern The Wounds Within.