He Who Would Do Good To Another

Does A Firm Persuasion That A Thing Is So, Make It So?

Then My Verse I Dishonor, My Pictures Despise, My Person Degrade And My Temper Chastise; And The Pen Is My Terror, The Pencil My Shame; And My Talents I Bury, And Dead Is My Fame.

It Is Not Because Angels Are Holier Than Men Or Devils That Makes Them Angels, But Because They Do Not Expect Holiness From One Another, But From God Only.

Death Is Terrible, Tho' Borne On Angels' Wings!

To Cast Aside From Poetry, All That Is Not Inspiration