But With Morning Cool Repentance Came.

Breathes There The Man, With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land! Whose Heart Hath Ne'er Within Him Burn'd, As Home His Footsteps He Hath Turn'd From Wandering On A Foreign Strand! If Such There Breathe, Go Mark Him Well; For Him No Minstrel Raptures Swell; High Though His Titles, Proud His Name, Boundless His Wealth As Wish Can Claim; Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.

He Hath A Share Of Man's Intelligence, But No Share Of Man's Falsehood.

A Lawyer Without History Or Literature Is A Mechanic, A Mere Working Mason; If He Possesses Some Knowledge Of These, He May Venture To Call Himself An Architect.

Her Blue Eyes Sought The West Afar, For Lovers Love The Western Star.

Ridicule Often Checks What Is Absurd, And Fully As Often Smothers That Which Is Noble.