Twinkle, twinkle, little star

Far from mortal cares retreating, Sordid hopes and vain desires, Here, our willing footsteps meeting, Every heart to heaven aspires.

Oh that it were my chief delight To do the things I ought! Then let me try with all my might To mind what I am taught.

Though man a thinking being is defined, Few use the grand prerogative of mind. How few think justly of the thinking few! How many never think, who think they do!

I thank the goodness and the grace Which on my birth have smiled, And made me in these Christian days, A happy English child.

Are we not children, all of us?

In this country … men seem to live for action as long as they can and sink into apathy when they retire.