Now there are many pleasures in life

But in the good there is every kind of wisdom.

Trouble adds toil to grief.

The black-winged Erinnys Will never enter those homes where the hands are lifted up in prayer, And the gods have accepted their offerings.

Moderation, the noblest gift of heaven.

In Ireland, all is either brilliant sunshine or dark shadow, and its scenery, its skies, and the countenances of its genuine sons, are all either smiles or tears.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.