“Get up and dance, get up and smile, get up and drink to the days that are gone in the shortest while.”
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Tell me not of joy: there's none Now my little sparrow's gone He, just as you, Would toy and woo, He would chirp and flatter me, He would hang the wing awhile, Till at length he saw me smile, Lord! how sullen he would be!
Oh, the ignorance of us upon whom Providence did not sufficiently smile to permit us to be born in New England.
The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.
May Heaven be propitious, and smile on the cause of my country.