Opinions Are Made To Be Changed Or

Then Farewell, Horace; Whom I Hated So, Not For Thy Faults, But Mine.

I Feel My Immortality Over Sweep All Pains, All Tears, All Time, All Fears, - And Peal, Like The Eternal Thunders Of The Deep, Into My Ears, This Truth, - Thou Livest Forever!

Hearts Will Break - Yet Brokenly, Live On.

Dreading That Climax Of All Human Ills The Inflammation Of His Weekly Bills.

I Am As Comfortless As A Pilgrim With Peas In His Shoes - And As Cold As Charity, Chastity Or Any Other Virtue.