I Am In Love With This Green

Gone Before To That Unknown And Silent Shore.

Cards Are War, In Disguise Of A Sport.

The Man Must Have A Rare Recipe For Melancholy, Who Can Be Dull In Fleet Street.

Alas! How Light A Cause May Move Dissension Between Hearts That Love! Hearts That The World In Vain Had Tried, And Sorrow But More Closely Tied; That Stood The Storm When Waves Were Rough, Yet In A Sunny Hour Fall Off, Like Ships That Have Gone Down At Sea When Heaven Was All Tranquillity.

I Ask And Wish Not To Appear More Beauteous, Rich Or Gay: Lord, Make Me Wiser Every Year, And Better Every Day.