I Awoke One Morning And Found Myself

One Of The Pleasures Of Reading Old Letters Is The Knowledge That They Need No Answer.

No More We Meet In Yonder Bowers Absence Has Made Me Prone To Roving; But Older, Firmer Hearts Than Ours, Have Found Monotony In Loving.

The Sight Of Blood To Crowds Begets The Thirst Of More, As The First Wine-cup Leads To The Long Revel.

Exhausting Thought, And Hiving Wisdom With Each Studious Year.

You Should Have A Softer Pillow Than My Heart.