In Itself A Thought, A Slumbering Thought

There Is Music In All Things, If Men Had Ears.

I Loved My Country, And I Hated Him.

A Little Still She Strove, And Much Repented, And Whispering “i Will Ne'er Consent”—consented.

Eat, Drink And Love...the Rest Is Not Worth A Nickel

Your Thief Looks Exactly Like The Rest, Or Rather Better; 'tis Only At The Bar, And In The Dungeon, That Wise Men Know Your Felon By His Features.