My Dreams Were All My Own; I

Truly Disappointment Is The Guardian Deity Of Human Life; She Sits At The Threshold Of Unborn Time, And Marshals The Events As They Come Forth.

For A Moment My Soul Was Elevated From Its Debasing And Miserable Fears To Which These Sights Were The Monuments And The Remembrances. For An Instant I Dared To Shake Off My Chains, And Look Around Me With A Free And Lofty Spirit; But The Iron Had Eaten Into My Flesh, And I Sank Again, Trembling And Hopeless, Into My Miserable Self.

But Her's Was The Misery Of Innocence, Which, Like A Cloud That Passes Over The Fair Moon, For A While Hides, But Cannot Tarnish Its Brightness.

Polluted By Crimes, And Torn By The Bitterest Remorse, Where Can I Find Rest But In Death?

You Seek For Knowledge And Wisdom As I Once Did; And I Ardently Hope That The Gratification Of Your Wishes May Not Be A Serpent To Sting You, As Mine Has Been.