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.

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• A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.
• Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
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• 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.
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• Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive’s hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near.