I Am Now Quite Cured Of Seeking

Riches I Hold In Light Esteem, And Love I Laugh To Scorn, And Lust Of Fame Was But A Dream That Vanished With The Morn. And If I Pray, The Only Prayer That Moves My Lips For Me Is, 'leave The Heart That Now I Bear, And Give Me Liberty!' Yes, As My Swift Days Near Their Goal, 'tis All That I Implore - In Life And Death, A Chainless Soul, With Courage To Endure.

Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight, All Soft And Still And Fair; The Solemn Hour Of Midnight Breathes Sweet Thoughts Everywhere, But Most Where Trees Are Sending Their Breezy Boughs On High, Or Stooping Low Are Lending A Shelter From The Sky. And There In Those Wild Bowers A Lovely Form Is Laid; Green Grass And Dew-steeped Flowers Wave Gently Round Her Head.

She Burned Too Bright For This World.

Thoughts Are Tyrants That Return Again And Again To Torment Us.

A Sensible Man Ought To Find Sufficient Company In Himself.