Absence - That Common Cure Of Love.

I Depart, Whither I Know Not; But The Hour's Gone By When Albion's Lessening Shores Could Grieve Or Glad Mine Eye.

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

We Are All Selfish And I No More Trust Myself Than Others With A Good Motive.

I Do Not Believe In Any Religion, I Will Have Nothing To Do With Immortality. We Are Miserable Enough In This Life Without Speculating Upon Another.

Oh That The Desert Were My Dwelling-place, With One Fair Spirit For My Minister