There Is In Souls A Sympathy With

But Truths On Which Depends Our Main Concern, That 'tis Our Shame And Misery Not To Learn, Shine By The Side Of Every Path We Tread With Such A Lustre He That Runs May Read.

Gardening Imparts An Organic Perspective On The Passage Of Time.

Heaven Speed The Canvas, Gallantly Unfurl'd, To Furnish And Accommodate A World, To Give The Pole The Produce Of The Sun, And Knit The Unsocial Climates Into One.

Absence From Whom We Love Is Worse Than Death, And Frustrates Hope Severer Than Despair.

An Idler Is A Watch That Wants Both Hands; As Useless If It Goes As When It Stands.