The Very Best Of Vineyards Is The

My Slumbers--if I Slumber--are Not Sleep, But A Continuance Of Enduring Thought, Which Then I Can Resist Not: In My Heart There Is A Vigil, And These Eyes But Close To Look Within; And Yet I Live, And Bear The Aspect And The Form Of Breathing Men.

Muse Of The Many Twinkling Feet, Whose Charms Are Now Extending Up From Legs To Arms.

I Am Surrounded Here By Parsons And Methodists, But As You Will See, Not Infested With The Mania.

Adversity Is The First Path To Truth.

[armenian] Is A Rich Language, However, And Would Amply Repay Any One The Trouble Of Learning It.