I Love Not Man The Less, But

Oh That The Desert Were My Dwelling-place, With One Fair Spirit For My Minister

'tis Pleasant, Sure, To See One's Name In Print. A Book's A Book, Although There's Nothing In 't.

What Deep Wounds Ever Closed Without A Scar?

Between Two Worlds Life Hovers Like A Star, Twixt Night And Morn, Upon The Horizon's Verge.

I Am The Very Slave Of Circumstance And Impulse -- Borne Away With Every Breath!