Smiles form the channels of a future tear.

But owned that smile, if oft observed and near, Waned in its mirth, and wither'd to a sneer.

From thy own smile I snatched the snake.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolished the right arm Of his own country;--seldom since that day Has Spain had heroes.

Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.

And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They have a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.