There's Luck In Odd Numbers.

Sure My Love Is All Crostlike A Bud In The Frostand There's No Use At All In My Going To Bed,for 't Is Dhrames And Not Slape That Comes Into My Head!

What Is Wine? It Is The Grape Present In Another Form; Its Essence Is There, Though The Fruit Which Produced It Grew Thousands Of Miles Away, And Perished Years Ago. So The Object Of Many A Tender Thought May Be Spiritually Present, In Defiance Of Space - And Fond Recollections Cherished In Defiance Of Time.

To Return After Long Years Of Painful Absence To Some Place Which Has Been The Scene Of Our Former Joys, And Whence The Force Of Circumstance, And Not Choice, Has Driven Us, Is Oppressive To The Heart.

My Hearing Has Suffered Seriously; Just Now I Am Obliged To Have The Assistance Of An Ear Trumpet. Think Of That, My Beauty! - There 's A State For Your Old Lover To Be In! - No More Tender Whisperings! Imagine Sweet Confessions To Be Made Through An Ear Trumpet!

The Neck On Which Diamonds Might Have Worthily Sparkled, Will Look Less Tempting When The Biting Winter Has Hung Icicles There For Gems.