God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm.
I praise the Frenchman; his remark was shrewd, – “How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude.” But grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper – Solitude is sweet.
The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow.
Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.”
“Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.”
A business with a income at its heels, furnishes always oil for its own wheels
I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the center all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute
Grief is itself a med’cine.
God made the country, and man made the town.
A fool must now and then be right by chance.
“Absence of proof is not proof of absence.”
Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
“The innocent seldom find an uncomfortable pillow.”
The lie that flatters I abhor the most.
Patriots are grown too shrewd to be sincere, And we too wise to trust them
Riches have wings.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
“Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.”
Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
“Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!”
He has no hope that never had a fear.
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free.
And all are slaves beside.