|John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.|
|Charles Sprague. (17911875)|
| Lo where the stage, the poor, degraded stage,|
Holds its warped mirror to a gaping age.
| Through lifes dark road his sordid way he wends,|
An incarnation of fat dividends.
| Behold! in Libertys unclouded blaze|
We lift our heads, a race of other days.
| Centennial Ode. Stanza 22.|
| Yes, social friend, I love thee well,|
In learned doctors spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.
| To my Cigar.|