The Mortal Sickness Of A Mind Too

All Knowledge Is Precious Whether Or Not It Serves The Slightest Human Use.

They Say My Verse Is Sad: No Wonder; Its Narrow Measure Spans Tears Of Eternity, And Sorrow, Not Mine. But Man's.

You Smile Upon Your Friend To-day, To-day His Ills Are Over; You Hearken To The Lover's Say, And Happy Is The Lover. 'tis Late To Hearken, Late To Smile, But Better Late Than Never: I Shall Have Lived A Little While Before I Die For Ever.

Earth And High Heaven Are Fixed Of Old And Founded Strong.

Ale, Man, Ale's The Stuff To Drink For Fellows Whom It Hurts To Think.