“Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud-Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?”

“MortalityOh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,He passes from life to his rest in the grave.The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,Be scattered around, and together be laid;And the young and the old, the low and the high,Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.'Tis the wink of an eye - 'tis the draught of a breath -From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroudOh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?”

“Why should I say ‘Tis too soon to seek for heaven and think of death’? A flower may fade before ‘Tis noon and I this day may lose my breath.”

“Tis well to borrow from the good and the great; 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create!”

“The heart from out the bosom Was never given in vain But bought with sighs aplenty And sold for endless rue And now I am two and twenty And oh tis true, tis true”

“Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes the world go round!”