Where Lives The Man That Has Not

What A Strange Scene If The Surge Of Conversation Could Suddenly Ebb Like The Tide, And Show Us The Real State Of People's Minds.

Where Shall The Lover Rest, Whom The Fates Sever From His True Maiden's Breast, Parted For Ever? Where, Through Groves Deep And High, Sounds The Far Billow, Where Early Violets Die, Under The Willow.

And Love Is Loveliest When Embalm'd In Tears.

Saint George And The Dragon!-bonny Saint George For Merry England!-the Castle Is Won!

The Half Hour Between Waking And Rising Has All My Life Proved Propitious To Any Task Which Was Exercising My Invention... It Was Always When I First Opened My Eyes That The Desired Ideas Thronged Upon Me.