The Will Is Always Near, Dear, Though

The Power To Console Is Not Within Corporeal Reach - Though Its Attempt Is Precious.

Love Is Its Own Rescue; For We, At Our Supremest, Are But Its Trembling Emblems.

If Fame Belonged To Me, I Could Not Escape Her; If She Did Not, The Longest Day Would Pass Me On The Chase, And The Approbation Of My Dog Would Forsake Me.

To Shut Your Eyes Is To Travel.

Answer July- Where Is The Bee- Where Is The Blush- Where Is The Hay? Ah, Said July- Where Is The Seed- Where Is The Bud- Where Is The May- Answer Thee-me-