The real doth not clip the poet's wings,—

There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea, and I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates.

The only faith that wears well and holds its color in all weathers, is that which is woven of conviction and set with the sharp mordant of experience.

From lower to the higher next, Not to the top, is Nature’s text; And embryo Good, to reach full stature, Absorbs the Evil in its nature.

They came three thousand miles, and died, To keep the Past upon its throne; Unheard, beyond the ocean tide, Their English mother made her moan.

It is by presence of mind in untried emergencies that the native metal of a man is tested.

When I was a beggarly boy, And lived in a cellar damp, I had not a friend nor a toy, But I had Aladdin's lamp.