No Scene Of Mortal Life But Teems

Here Eglantine Embalm'd The Air, Hawthorne And Hazel Mingled There; The Primrose Pale, And Violet Flower, Found In Each Cliff A Narrow Bower; Fox-glove And Nightshade, Side By Side, Emblems Of Punishment And Pride, Group'd Their Dark Hues With Every Stain The Weather-beaten Crags Retain.

Credit Is Like A Looking-glass, Which When Once Sullied By A Breath, May Be Wiped Clear Again; But If Once Cracked Can Never Be Repaired.

Spangling The Wave With Lights As Vain As Pleasures In The Vale Of Pain, That Dazzle As They Fade.

Mystery Has Great Charms For Womanhood.

That Day Of Wrath, That Dreadful Day. When Heaven And Earth Shall Pass Away.