SAMUEL ROGERS

It doesn't much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find next morning that it was someone else.

Think nothing done while aught remains to do.

When a new book is published, read an old one.

To know her was to love her.

I lived to write, and wrote to live.

Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.

Then never less alone than when alone.

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,-not dead, but gone before,- He gathers round him.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour A thousand melodies unheard before!

Almost all men are over anxious. No sooner do they enter the world than they lose that taste for natural and simple pleasures so remarkable in early life. Every hour do they ask themselves what progress they have made in the pursuit of wealth or honor and on they go as their fathers went before them till weary and sick at heart they look back with a sigh of regret to the golden time of their childhood.

A man who attempts to read all the new productions must do as the flea does,--skip.

Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green, With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke When round the ruins of their ancient oak The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols closed the busy day.

Gentle to others, to himself severe.

Long on the wave reflected lustres of play.

Vast and deep the mountain shadows grew.

Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

Go! you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away! There 's such a charm in melancholy I would not if I could be gay.

That very law which moulds a tear And bids it trickle from its source,- That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.