A Contented Spirit Is The Sweetness Of

A Dangerous Quality, If Real; And A Not Less Dangerous One, If Feigned.

I Took Her Hand In Mine, And We Went Out Of The Ruined Place; And, As The Morning Mists Had Risen Long Ago When I First Left The Forge, So, The Evening Mists Were Rising Now, And In All The Broad Expanse Of Tranquil Light They Showed To Me, I Saw No Shadow Of Another Parting From Her.

... Take Another Glass Of Wine, And Excuse My Mentioning That Society As A Body Does Not Expect One To Be So Strictly Conscientious In Emptying One's Glass, As To Turn It Bottom Upwards With The Rim On One's Nose.

If An Enthusiastic, Ardent, And Ambitious Man Marry A Wife On Whose Name There Is A Stain, Which, Though It Originate In No Fault Of Hers, May Be Visited By Cold And Sordid People Upon Her, And Upon His Children Also: And, In Exact Proportion To His Success In The World, Be Cast In His Teeth, And Made The Subject Of Sneers Against Him: He May, No Matter How Generous And Good His Nature, One Day Repent Of The Connection He Formed In Early Life; And She May Have The Pain And Torture Of Knowing That He Does So.

Stranger, Pause And Ask Thyself The Question, Canst Thou Do Likewise? If Not, With A Blush Retire.