Memoirs Are The Backstairs Of History.

I Know Him, February's Thrush, And Loud At Eve He Valentines On Sprays That Paw The Naked Bush Where Soon Will Sprout The Thorns And Bines.

Kissing Don't Last: Cookery Do!

On A Starred Night Prince Lucifer Uprose, Tired Of His Dark Dominion Swung The Fiend . . . He Reached A Middle Height, And At The Stars, Which Are The Brain Of Heaven, He Looked, And Sank. Around The Ancient Track Marched, Rank On Rank, The Army Of Unalterable Law.

Sentimentalists Are They Who Seek To Enjoy Without Incurring The Immense Debtorship For A Thing Done.

It's Past Parsons To Console Us: No, Nor No Doctor Fetch For Me: I Can Die Without My Bolus; Two Of A Trade, Lass, Never Agree! Parson And Doctor!--don't They Love Rarely Fighting The Devil In Other Men's Fields! Stand Up Yourself And Match Him Fairly: Then See How The Rascal Yields!