Tis Distance Lends Enchantment To The View,

Love! The Surviving Gift Of Heaven, The Choicest Sweet Of Paradise, In Life's Else Bitter Cup Distilled.

Without The Smile From Partial Beauty Won, O What Were Man? - A World Without A Sun.

What Though My Winged Hours Of Bliss Have Been, Like Angel Visits, Few And Far Between.

For There No Yew Nor Cypress Spread Their Glom But Roses Blossom'd Each Rustic Tomb.

The Popularity Of That Baby-faced Boy, Who Possessed Not Even The Elements Of A Good Actor, Was A Hallucination In The Public Mind, And A Disgrace To Our Theatrical History.