My Heart Is Its Own Grave!

Affection Exaggerates Its Own Offenses.

How Often, In This Cold And Bitter World, Is The Warm Heart Thrown Back Upon Itself! Cold, Careless, Are We Of Another's Grief; We Wrap Ourselves In Sullen Selfishness.

Enthusiasm Is The Divine Particle In Our Composition: With It We Are Great, Generous, And True; Without It, We Are Little, False, And Mean.

I Would Give Worlds, Could I Believe One-half That Is Profess'd Me; Affection! Could I Think It Thee, When Flattery Has Caress'd Me.

We Need To Suffer, That We May Learn To Pity.