Of All Tales 'tis The Saddest--and More

The Mind Can Make Substance, And People Planets Of Its Own With Beings Brighter Than Have Been, And Give A Breath To Forms Which Can Outlive All Flesh.

In Secret We Met - In Silence I Grieve, That Thy Heart Could Forget, Thy Spirit Deceive. If I Should Meet Thee After Long Years, How Should I Greet Thee? - With Silence And Tears

'tis Very Certain The Desire Of Life Prolongs It.

No More We Meet In Yonder Bowers Absence Has Made Me Prone To Roving; But Older, Firmer Hearts Than Ours, Have Found Monotony In Loving.

Man, Being Reasonable, Must Get Drunk; The Best Of Life Is But Intoxication.