How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start

I love it, I love it; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?

Better build school-rooms for "the boy," Than cells and gibbets for "the man."

On what strange stuff Ambition feeds.

"My dear little daughter," said he, "you cannot be so glad to come back as my arms and my heart will be to receive you."

"And when we die, All’s over that is ours; and life burns on Through other lovers, other lips," said I —"Heart of my heart, our heaven is now, is won!" "We are earth’s best, that learnt her lesson here, Life is our cry. We have kept the …

Lincoln and Douglass; Douglass and Lincoln! May their names ever be welded into one memory in the hearts of every Negro in the land!