So Fades A Summer Cloud Away; So

Child Of Mortality, Whence Comest Thou? Why Is Thy Countenance Sad, And Why Are Thine Eyes Red With Weeping?

Englishmen Are Said To Love Their Laws; - That Is The Reason, I Suppose, They Give Us So Many Of Them, And In Different Editions.

Man Is The Nobler Growth Our Realms Supply, And Souls Are Ripened In Our Northern Sky.

When One By One Our Ties Are Torn, And Friend From Friend Is Snatched Forlorn; When Man Is Left Alone To Mourn, Oh! Then How Sweet It Is To Die!

So Fades A Summer Cloud Away; So Sinks The Gale When Storms Are O'er; So Gently Shuts The Eye Of Day; So Dies A Wave Along The Shore.