Wondrous Strong Are The Spells Of Fiction.

Read From Some Humbler Poet, Whose Songs Gushed From His Heart, As Showers From The Clouds Of Summer, Or Tears From The Eyelids Start.

To Be Infatuated With The Power Of One's Own Intellect Is An Accident Which Seldom Happens But To Those Who Are Remarkable For The Want Of Intellectual Power. Whenever Nature Leaves A Hole In A Person's Mind, She Generally Plasters It Over With A Thick Coat Of Self-conceit.

Well I Know The Secret Places, And The Nests In Hedge And Tree; At What Doors Are Friendly Faces, In What Hearts Are Thoughts Of Me.

A Word That Has Been Said May Be Unsaid-it Is But Air. But When A Deed Is Done, It Cannot Be Undone, Nor Can Our Thoughts Reach Out To All The Mischiefs That May Follow.

All Sense Of Hearing And Of Sight Enfold In The Serene Delight And Quietude Of Sleep.