When True Friends Meet In Adverse Hour;

Faces That Have Charmed Us The Most Escape Us The Soonest.

Whose Lenient Sorrows Find Relief, Whose Joys Are Chastened By Their Grief.

I Have Sometimes Thought Of The Final Cause Of Dogs Having Such Short Lives And I Am Quite Satisfied It Is In Compassion To The Human Race; For If We Suffer So Much In Losing A Dog After An Acquaintance Of Ten Or Twelve Years, What Would It Be If They Were To Live Double That Time?

I Am She, O Most Bucolical Juvenal, Under Whose Charge Are Placed The Milky Mothers Of The Herd.

What Skilful Limner E'er Would Choose To Paint The Rainbow's Varying Hues, Unless To Mortal It Were Given To Dip His Brush In Dyes Of Heaven?