Advice Is Like Snow - The Softer

The One Red Leaf, The Last Of Its Clan, That Dances As Often As Dance It Can, Hanging So Light, And Hanging So High, On The Topmost Twig That Looks Up At The Sky.

All Thoughts, All Passions, All Delights Whatever Stirs This Mortal Frame All Are But Ministers Of Love And Feed His Sacred Flame.

The Most Happy Marriage I Can Picture Or Imagine To Myself Would Be The Union Of A Deaf Man To A Blind Woman.

The Curiosity Of An Honorable Mind Willingly Rests There, Where The Love Of Truth Does Not Urge It Farther Onward, And The Love Of Its Neighbor Bids It Stop; In Other Words, It Willingly Stops At The Point Where The Interests Of Truth Do Not Beckon It Onward, And Charity Cries, Halt!

Her Lips Were Red, Her Looks Were Free, Her Locks Were Yellow As Gold: Her Skin Was White As Leprosy, The Nightmare Life-in-death Was She, Who Thicks Man's Blood With Cold.