The Sea Appears All Golden. Beneath The

Sleep Is Lovely, Death Is Better Still, Not To Have Been Born Is Of Course The Miracle.

What Lies Lurk In Kisses.

The Blossoms And Leaves In Plenty From The Apple Tree Fall Each Day; The Merry Breezes Approach Them, And With Them Merrily Play.

I Call'd The Devil, And He Came, And With Wonder His Form Did I Closely Scan; He Is Not Ugly, And Is Not Lame, But Really A Handsome And Charming Man. A Man In The Prime Of Life Is The Devil, Obliging, A Man Of The World, And Civil; A Diplomatist Too, Well Skill'd In Debate, He Talks Quite Glibly Of Church And State.

Great Genius Takes Shape By Contact With Another Great Genius, But Less By Assimilation Than By Friction.