The Brightest Attractions To The Lover Too

I Am Truly Miserable - More So Than I Like To Acknowledge To Myself. Pride Refuses To Aid Me. It Has Brought Me Into The Scrape, And Will Not Help Me Out Of It.

The Bud, Though Plucked, Would Not Be Withered, Only Transplanted To A Fitter Soil To Ripen And Blow Beneath A Brighter Sun; And Though I Might Not Cherish And Watch My Child's Unfolding Intellect, He Would Be Snatched Away From All The Suffering And Sins Of Earth; And My Understanding Tells Me This Would Be No Great Evil; But My Heart Shrinks From The Contemplation Of Such A Possibility, And Whispers I Could Not Bear To See Him Die.

Intimate Acquaintance Must Precede Real Friendship

Adieu! But Let Me Cherish, Still, The Hope With Which I Cannot Part. Contempt May Wound, And Coldness Chill, But Still It Lingers In My Heart. And Who Can Tell But Heaven, At Last, May Answer All My Thousand Prayers, And Bid The Future Pay The Past With Joy For Anguish, Smiles For Tears?

Keep Guard Over Your Eyes And Ears As The Inlets Of Your Heart, And Over Your Lips As The Outlets, Lest They Betray You In A Moment Of Unwariness.