Here's A Sigh To Those Who Love

The Heart Ran O'er With Silent Worship Of The Great Of Old!-- The Dead, But Sceptred Sovereigns, Who Still Rule Our Spirits From Their Urns.

O Gold! I Still Prefer Thee Unto Paper, Which Makes Bank Credit Like A Bark Of Vapour.

Go Let Thy Less Than Woman's Hand Assume The Distaff Not The Brand.

A Material Resurrection Seems Strange And Even Absurd Except For Purposes Of Punishment, And All Punishment Which Is To Revenge Rather Than Correct Must Be Morally Wrong, And When The World Is At An End, What Moral Or Warning Purpose Can Eternal Tortures Answer?

Physicians Mend Or End Us, Secundum Artem; But Although We Sneer - In Health - When Ill We Call Them To Attend Us, Without The Least Propensity To Jeer