Let Us Open Our Leaves Like A

I Shall Soon Be Laid In The Quiet Grave--thank God For The Quiet Grave--o! I Can Feel The Cold Earth Upon Me--the Daisies Growing Over Me--o For This Quiet--it Will Be My First.

I Have Good Reason To Be Content, For Thank God I Can Read And Perhaps Understand Shakespeare To His Depths.

Every Fresh Experience Points Out Some Form Of Error Which We Shall Afterwards Carefully Avoid.

But Were There Ever Any Writhed Not At Passed Joy?

You Are Always New, The Last Of Your Kisses Was Ever The Sweetest.