Now I Shall Go To Sleep. Goodnight.

But Mighty Nature Bounds As From Her Birth; The Sun Is In The Heavens, And Life On Earth: Flowers In The Valley, Splendor In The Beam, Health On The Gale, And Freshness In The Stream.

Let Not His Mode Of Raising Cash Seem Strange, Although He Fleeced The Flags Of Every Nation, For Into A Prime Minister But Change His Title, And 'tis Nothing But Taxation.

But Words Are Things, And A Small Drop Of Ink, Falling Like Dew, Upon A Thought, Produces That Which Makes Thousands, Perhaps Millions, Think.

The Simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, Both By Precept And Example, Shows / That Prose Is Verse, And Verse Is Merely Prose.

That Low Vice, Curiosity!