What A Strange Thing Is Man! And

Twas Twilight, And The Sunless Day Went Down Over The Waste Of Waters; Like A Veil, Which, If Withdrawn, Would But Disclose The Frown Of One Whose Hate Is Mask'd But To Assail.

There Is, In Fact, No Law Or Government At All; And It Is Wonderful How Well Things Go On Without Them.

Man Is In Part Divine, A Troubled Stream From A Pure Source.

What Should I Have Known Or Written Had I Been A Quiet, Mercantile Politician Or A Lord In Waiting? A Man Must Travel, And Turmoil, Or There Is No Existence.

Which Cheers The Sad, Revives The Old, Inspires The Young, Makes Weariness Forget His Toil, And Fear Her Danger; Opens A New World When This, The Present, Palls.