I Hate A Man Who Swallows [his

Every Commonplace Or Trite Observation Is Not A Truism.

An Album Is A Garden, Not For Show Planted, But Use; Where Wholesome Herbs Should Grow.

Oh, Ever Thus, From Childhood's Hour, I 've Seen My Fondest Hopes Decay; I Never Loved A Tree Or Flower But 't Was The First To Fade Away. I Never Nurs'd A Dear Gazelle, To Glad Me With Its Soft Black Eye, But When It Came To Know Me Well And Love Me, It Was Sure To Die.

Shall I Ask The Brave Soldier Who Fights By My Side In The Cause Of Mankind, If Our Creeds Agree?

There Is A Pleasure In Affecting Affectation.