It Was Woman That Taught

The Chain Of Friendship, However Bright, Does Not Stand The Attrition Of Constant Close Contact.

Land Of My Sires! What Mortal Hand Can E'er Untie The Filial Band That Knits Me To Thy Rugged Strand!

See Yonder Rock From Which The Fountain Gushes; Is It Less Compact Of Adamant, Though Waters Flow From It? Firm Hearts Have Moister Eyes.

Contentions Fierce, Ardent, And Dire, Spring From No Petty Cause.

There Is A Southern Proverb - Fine Words Butter No Parsnips.