I Was Byron And Shakespeare Formerly.

I Am: Yet What I Am None Cares Or Knows, My Friends Forsake Me Like A Memory Lost; I Am The Self-consumer Of My Woes, They Rise And Vanish In Oblivious Host, Like Shades In Love And Death's Oblivion Lost; And Yet I Am, And Live With Shadows Tost.

The Snow Has Left The Cottage Top; The Thatch Moss Grows In Brighter Green; And Eaves In Quick Succession Drop, Where Grinning Icicles Have Been, Pit-patting With A Pleasant Noise In Tubs Set By The Cottage Door; While Duck And Geese, With Happy Joys, Plunge In The Yard Pond Brimming Over. The Sun Peeps Through The Window Pane: Which Children Mark With Laughing Eye, And In The Wet Street Steal Again To Tell Each Other Spring Is Night.

I Long For Scenes Where Man Has Never Trod;... There To Abide With My Creator, God.

The Best Way To Avoid A Bad Action Is By Doing A Good One, For There Is No Difficulty In The World Like That Of Trying To Do Nothing.

My Fears Are Agitated To An Extreme Degree And The Dread Of Death Involves Me In A Stupor Of Chilling Indisposition.