Dreading That Climax Of All Human Ills

The Bright Sun Was Extinguish'd, And The Stars Did Wander Darkling In The Eternal Space.

Reason Is So Unreasonable, That Few People Can Say They Are In Possession Of It.

The Heart Ran O'er With Silent Worship Of The Great Of Old!-- The Dead, But Sceptred Sovereigns, Who Still Rule Our Spirits From Their Urns.

Exhausting Thought, And Hiving Wisdom With Each Studious Year.

There Is No Such Thing As A Life Of Passion Any More Than A Continuous Earthquake, Or An Eternal Fever. Besides, Who Would Ever Shave Themselves In Such A State?