The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every

My Friends Are My Estate.

Death Is A Supple Suitor, That Wins At Last. It Is A Stealthy Wooing; Conducted First By Pallid Innuendos And Dim Approach, But Brave At Last With Bugles.

The Heart Asks Pleasure--first-- And Then--excuse From Pain

Our Little Kinsmen After Rain In Plenty May Be Seen, A Pink And Pulpy Multitude The Tepid Ground Upon; A Needless Life If Seemed To Me Until A Little Bird As To A Hospitality Advanced And Breakfasted.

Fearless--the Cobweb Swings From The Ceiling-- Indolent Housewife--in Daisies--lain!