And Shade The Violets, That They May

That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself.

One Of The Most Mysterious Of Semi-speculations Is, One Would Suppose, That Of One Mind's Imagining Into Another

All Clean And Comfortable I Sit Down To Write.

To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent, ’tis Very Sweet To Look Into The Fair And Open Face Of Heaven, — To Breathe A Prayer Full In The Smile Of The Blue Firmament.

The Silver, Snarling Trumpets 'gan To Chide.