With Our Short Sight We Affect To

I Hope There Is Something Worthy In My Writings And Not Merely The Novelty Of A Black Face Associated With The Power To Rhyme That Has Attracted Attention.

Poor Conceited Humanity! Interpreters Of God Indeed.

This, This Indeed Is To Be Accursed, For If We Mortals Love, Or If We Sing, We Count Our Joys Not By What We Have, But By What Kept Us From That Perfect Thing.

All Play And No Work Makes Jack A Mere Toy.

Oh, How With More Than Dreams The Soul Is Torn, Ere Sleep Comes Down To Soothe The Weary Eyes.