In Solitude, When We Are Least Alone.

One Certainly Has A Soul; But How It Came To Allow Itself To Be Enclosed In A Body Is More Than I Can Imagine.

Egeria! Sweet Creation Of Some Heart Which Found No Mortal Resting-place So Fair As Thine Ideal Breast.

'tis Very Certain The Desire Of Life Prolongs It.

Time Strips Our Illusions Of Their Hue, And One By One In Turn, Some Grand Mistake Casts Off Its Bright Skin Yearly Like The Snake.

Glory, Like The Phoenix 'midst Her Fires, Exhales Her Odours, Blazes, And Expires.