A Sensible Man Ought To Find Sufficient

The Lord Help Us!' He Soliloquised In An Undertone Of Peevish Displeasure, While Relieving Me Of My Horse: Looking, Meantime, In My Face So Sourly That I Charitably Conjectured He Must Have Need Of Divine Aid To Digest His Dinner, And His Pious Ejaculation Had No Reference To My Unexpected Advent.

Lines I Die But When The Grave Shall Press The Heart So Long Endeared To Thee When Earthy Cares No More Distress And Earthy Joys Are Nought To Me. Weep Not, But Think That I Have Past Before Thee O'er The Sea Of Gloom. Have Anchored Safe And Rest At Last Where Tears And Mouring Can Not Come. 'tis I Should Weep To Leave Thee Here On That Dark Ocean Sailing Drear With Storms Around And Fears Before And No Kind Light To Point The Shore. But Long Or Short Though Life May Be 'tis Nothing To Eternity. We Part Below To Meet On High Where Blissful Ages Never Die.

I Have Fled My Country And Gone To The Heather.

Every Leaf Speaks Bliss To Me, Fluttering From The Autumn Tree.

I'm Happiest When Most Away I Can Bear My Soul From Its Home Of Clay On A Windy Night When The Moon Is Bright And The Eye Can Wander Through Worlds Of Light— When I Am Not And None Beside— Nor Earth Nor Sea Nor Cloudless Sky— But Only Spirit Wandering Wide Through Infinite Immensity.