If You Keep A Thing Seven Years,

Is Death The Last Sleep? No, It Is The Last And Final Awakening.

Sensibility Is Nature's Celestial Spring.

Never Was Flattery Lost On A Poet's Ear; A Simple Race, They Waste Their Toil For The Vain Tribute Of A Smile.

For Love Will Still Be Lord Of All.

Who, Noteless As The Race From Which He Sprung, Saved Others' Names, But Left His Own Unsung.