The Present Is The Funeral Of The

So Dull And Dark Are The November Days. The Lazy Mist High Up The Evening Curled, And Now The Morn Quite Hides In Smoke And Haze; The Place We Occupy Seems All The World.

Burning Hot Is The Ground, Liquid Gold Is The Air; Whoever Looks Round Sees Eternity There.

The Best Way To Avoid A Bad Action Is By Doing A Good One, For There Is No Difficulty In The World Like That Of Trying To Do Nothing.

Crowded Places, I Shunned Them As Noises Too Rude / And Flew To The Silence Of Sweet Solitude.

I Was Byron And Shakespeare Formerly.