As Falls The Dew On Quenchless Sands,

Oh, Christ! It Is A Goodly Sight To See What Heaven Hath Done For This Delicious Land!

I Have Great Hopes That We Shall Love Each Other All Our Lives As Much As If We Had Never Married At All.

Come What May, I Have Been Blest.

Oh, Nature's Noblest Gift, My Grey Goose Quill, Slave Of My Thoughts, Obedient To My Will, Torn From The Parent Bird To Form A Pen, That Mighty Instrument Of Little Men.

I Loved My Country, And I Hated Him.