The life upon which youth fancies itself entering is very different…

Ah, better to love in the lowliest cot Than pine in a palace alone.

Then drink, puppy, drink, and let ev’ry puppy drink, That is old enough to lap and to swallow; For he’ll grow into a hound, so we’ll pass the bottle round, And merrily we’ll whoop and we’ll holloa.

When you sleep in your cloak there's no lodging to pay.

For everything created In the bounds of earth and sky Has such longing to be mated, It must couple or must die.

I look'd far back into the past, and lo! in bright array, I saw, as in a dream, the forms of ages pass'd away. It was a stately convent, with its old and lofty walls, And gardens with their broad green walks, where soft the footstep falls.

On the morning of January 11th, 1860, I passed, for the eighth time, through the Golden Gate... As the shores of California faded in the distance, and the summits of the Coast Range sank under the blue horizon, I bade farewell — yes, I do …