Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay. — Thomas Campbell
Who hath not own’d, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name. — Thomas Campbell
An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write; but how shall I begin? — Thomas Campbell
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own. — Thomas Campbell
Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, and robes the mountain in its azure hue. — Thomas Campbell