Man Is In Part Divine, A Troubled

Keep Thy Smooth Words And Juggling Homilies For Those Who Know Thee Not.

I Should, Many A Good Day, Have Blown My Brains Out, But For The Recollection That It Would Have Given Pleasure To My Mother-in-law.

I Loved My Country, And I Hated Him.

He Had Kept The Whiteness Of His Soul, And Thus Men O'er Him Wept.

I Am Never Long, Even In The Society Of Her I Love, Without Yearning For The Company Of My Lamp And My Library.