I Doubt Sometimes Whether A Quiet And

How Sweet And Soothing Is This Hour Of Calm! I Thank Thee, Night! For Thou Has Chased Away These Horrid Bodements Which, Amidst The Throng, I Could Not Dissipate; And With The Blessing Of Thy Benign And Quiet Influence Now Will I To My Couch, Although To Rest Is Almost Wronging Such A Night As This.

Fare Thee Well, And If For Ever Still For Ever Fare Thee Well.

The Busy Have No Time For Tears.

It Is The Lava Of The Imagination Whose Eruption Prevents An Earthquake.

In Solitude, Where We Are Least Alone.