Pale moon ! thy mild benignant light

Expression, child of soul! I fondly trace Thy strong enchantment, when the poet's lyre, The painter's pencil cathch thy sacred fire, And beauty wakes for thee her touching grace

No riches from his scanty store My lover could impart He gave a boon I valued more— He gave me all his heart !

Ye blushing virgins happy are In the chaste nunnery of her breasts— For he'd profane so chaste a fair, Whoe'er should call them Cupid's nests.

For see the rosy May draws nigh; She claims a virgin queen; And hark, the happy shepherds cry, 'Tis Kate of Aberdeen.

So venerable, so majestic, is this living temple of justice, this immemorial and yet freshly growing fabric of the Common Law, that the least of us is happy who hereafter may point to so much as one stone thereof and say, The work of my …

All those things that make a nation richer, stronger, or more happy; or that tend to exalt national character, but that will not pay individuals, deserve public encouragement.