Accursed Be The City Where The Laws

Better To Sink Beneath The Shock Than Moulder Piecemeal On The Rock!

I Speak Not Of Men's Creeds—they Rest Between Man And His Maker.

Nothing So Difficult As A Beginning In Poesy, Unless Perhaps The End.

Ada! Sole Daughter Of My House And Heart.

With Flowing Tail And Flying Mane, Wide Nostrils Never Stretched By Pain, Mouth Bloodless To Bit Or Rein, And Feet That Iron Never Shod, And Flanks Unscar'd By Spur Or Rod, A Thousand Horses - The Wild - The Free - Like Waves That Follow O'er The Sea, Came Thickly Thundering On.