Be Thou The Rainbow In The Storms

So Much Alarmed That She Is Quite Alarming

I Depart, Whither I Know Not; But The Hour's Gone By When Albion's Lessening Shores Could Grieve Or Glad Mine Eye.

Here Lies Interred In The Eternity Of The Past, From Whence There Is No Resurrection For The Days - Whatever There May Be For The Dust - The Thirty-third Year Of An Ill-spent Life, Which, After A Lingering Disease Of Many Months Sank Into A Lethargy, And Expired, January 22d, 1821, A.d. Leaving A Successor Inconsolable For The Very Loss Which Occasioned Its Existence.

I Am As Comfortless As A Pilgrim With Peas In His Shoes - And As Cold As Charity, Chastity Or Any Other Virtue.

Liberty - Eternal Spirit Of The Chainless Mind