Man Is His Own Star, And The

A Woman Friend! He That Believes That Weakness, Steers In A Stormy Night Without A Compass.

Joys As Winged Dreams Fly Fast, / Why Should Sadness Longer Last? / Grief Is But A Wound To Woe; / Gentlest Fair, Mourn, Mourn No Moe.

Our Acts Our Angels Are, For Good Or Ill, Our Fatal Shadows That Walk By Us Still.

Come, Sing Now, Sing; For I Know You Sing Well; I See You Have A Singing Face.

Ask How To Live? Write, Write, Write, Anything; The World's A Fine Believing World, Write News.