The Stars Are So Far, Far Away!

Suicide And Antipathy To Fires In A Bedroom Seem To Be Among The National Characteristics. Perhaps The Same Moral Cause May Originate Both.

And This Is Woman's Fate: All Her Affections Are Called Into Life By Winning Flatteries, And Then Thrown Back Upon Themselves To Perish; And Her Heart, Her Trusting Heart, Filled With Weak Tenderness, Is Left To Bleed Or Break!

Perhaps, From An Innate Desire Of Justification, Sorrow Always Exaggerates Itself. Memory Is Quite One Of Job's Friends; And The Past Is Ever Ready To Throw Its Added Darkness On The Present.

Good Taste Is His Religion, His Morality, His Standard, And His Test.

The Wind Has A Language, I Would I Could Learn! Sometimes 'tis Soothing, And Sometimes 'tis Stern, Sometimes It Comes Like A Low Sweet Song, And All Things Grow Calm, As The Sound Floats Along, And The Forest Is Lull'd By The Dreamy Strain, And Slumber Sinks Down On The Wandering Main, And Its Crystal Arms Are Folded In Rest, And The Tall Ship Sleeps On Its Heaving Breast.