His Religion At Best Is An Anxious

Philosophy Will Clip An Angel's Wings.

The Poetry Of The Earth Is Never Dead.

I Almost Wish We Were Butterflies And Liv'd But Three Summer Days - Three Such Days With You I Could Fill With More Delight Than Fifty Common Years Could Ever Contain.

It Can Be Said Of Him, When He Departed He Took A Man's Life With Him. No Sounder Piece Of British Manhood Was Put Together In That Eighteenth Century Of Time.

The Creature Has A Purpose, And His Eyes Are Bright With It.