As A Viewed Myself In A Fragment

From A Proud Tower In The Town, Death Looks Gigantically Down.

It Is By No Means An Irrational Fancy That, In A Future Existence, We Shall Look Upon What We Think Our Present Existence, As A Dream.

It Is A Happiness To Wonder; -- It Is A Happiness To Dream.

They Who Dream By Day Are Cognizant Of Many Things Which Escape Those Who Dream Only By Night.

Thy Soul Shall Find Itself Alone ’mid Dark Thoughts Of The Gray Tombstone— Not One, Of All The Crowd, To Pry Into Thine Hour Of Secrecy. Be Silent In That Solitude, Which Is Not Loneliness—for Then The Spirits Of The Dead Who Stood In Life Before Thee Are Again In Death Around Thee—and Their Will Shall Overshadow Thee: Be Still. [...]