Oh, Poverty Parts Good Company.

We Often Praise The Evening Clouds, And Tints So Gay And Bold, But Seldom Think Upon Our God, Who Tinged These Clouds With Gold.

Woe To The Youth Whom Fancy Gains, Winning From Reason's Hand The Reins, Pity And Woe! For Such A Mind Is Soft Contemplative, And Kind.

Independently Of The Curious Circumstance That Such Tales Should Be Found Existing In Very Different Countries And Languages, Which Augurs A Greater Poverty Of Human Invention Than We Would Have Expected, There Is Also A Sort Of Wild Fairy Interest In Them, Which Makes Me Think Them Fully Better Adapted To Awaken The Imagination And Soften The Heart Of Childhood Than The Good-boy Stories Which Have Been In Later Years Composed For Them.

As Long As The Fates Permit, Live Cheerfully.

The Sun Never Sets On The Immense Empire Of Charles V.