Critics Are Already Made.

I Have Not Loved The World, Nor The World Me.

And Gentle Winds And Waters Near, Make Music To The Lonely Ear.

Then Rose From Sea To Sky The Wild Farewell Then Shriek'd The Timid, And Stood Still The Brave, Then Some Leap'd Overboard With Fearful Yell, As Eager To Anticipate Their Grave.

It Is True From Early Habit, One Must Make Love Mechanically As One Swims; I Was Once Very Fond Of Both, But Now As I Never Swim Unless I Tumble Into The Water, I Don't Make Love Till Almost Obliged.

The 'good Old Times' - All Times When Old Are Good.