'tis A Month Before The Month Of

Water, Water, Everywhere, And All The Boards Did Shrink; Water, Water, Everywhere, Nor Any Drop To Drink.

Poetry Gives Most Pleasure When Only Generally And Not Perfectly Understood.

How Strange And Awful Is The Synthesis Of Life And Death In The Gusty Winds And Falling Leaves Of An Autumnal Day!

The Book Of Job Is Pure Arab Poetry Of The Highest And Most Antique Cast.

Contempt Is Egotism In Ill- Humor.