My Heart In Passion, And My Head

The Waves Were Dead; The Tides Were In Their Grave, The Moon, Their Mistress, Had Expir'd Before; The Winds Were Wither'd In The Stagnant Air, And The Clouds Perish'd; Darkness Had No Need Of Aid From Them-she Was The Universe.

And Wrinkles, The Damned Democrats, Won't Flatter.

The Reason That Adulation Is Not Displeasing Is That, Though Untrue, It Shows One To Be Of Consequence Enough, In One Way Or Other, To Induce People To Lie.

Then Stirs The Feeling Infinite, So Felt In Solitude, Where We Are Least Alone.

My Beautiful, My Own My Only Venice-this Is Breath! Thy Breeze Thine Adrian Sea-breeze, How It Fans My Face! Thy Very Winds Feel Native To My Veins, And Cool Them Into Calmness!