And Feel That I Am Happier Than

Come To The Sunset Tree! The Day Is Past And Gone; The Woodman's Axe Lies Free, And The Reaper's Work Is Done.

No Man Who Knows Aught, Can Be So Stupid To Deny That All Men Naturally Were Born Free.

He That Has Light Within His Own Clear Breast May Sit In The Centre, And Enjoy Bright Day: But He That Hides A Dark Soul And Foul Thoughts Benighted Walks Under The Mid-day Sun; Himself His Own Dungeon.

It Is Chastity, My Brother. She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel.

O Nightingale, That On Yon Bloomy Spray Warblest At Eve, When All The Woods Are Still; Thou With Fresh Hope The Lover's Heart Dost Fill While The Jolly Hours Lead On Propitious May.