The Bud May Have A Bitter Taste,

They Love The Country, And None Else, Who Seek For Their Own Sake Its Silence And Its Shade. Delights Which Who Would Leave, That Has A Heart Susceptible Of Pity, Or A Mind Cultured And Capable Of Sober Thought.

[my Kitten] Is Dressed In A Tortoise-shell Suit, And I Know You Will Delight In Her.

The Path Of Sorrow, And That Path Alone, Leads To The Land Where Sorrow Is Unknown.

But Slaves That Once Conceive The Glowing Thought Of Freedom, In That Hope Itself Possess All That The Contest Calls For; Spirit, Strength, The Scorn Of Danger, And United Hearts, The Surest Presage Of The Good They Seek.

Absence Of Occupation Is Not Rest; A Mind Quite Vacant Is A Mind Distressed.