His Faithful Dog Salutes The Smiling Guest.

What Though My Winged Hours Of Bliss Have Been, Like Angel Visits, Few And Far Between.

On Linden, When The Sun Was Low, All Bloodless Lay The Untrodden Snow, And Dark As Winter Was The Flow Of Iser, Rolling Rapidly.

The Smaller Your Reality, The More Convinced You Are That You Know Everything.

The Popularity Of That Baby-faced Boy, Who Possessed Not Even The Elements Of A Good Actor, Was A Hallucination In The Public Mind, And A Disgrace To Our Theatrical History.

Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before.