It Was The Schooner Hesperus, That Sailed

Death Is The Chillness That Precedes The Dawn; We Shudder For A Moment, Then Awake In The Broad Sunshine Of The Other Life.

The Rays Of Happiness, Like Those Of Light, Are Colorless When Unbroken.

It Was The Schooner Hesperus, That Sailed The Wintry Sea.

I Am More Afraid Of Deserving Criticism Than Of Receiving It.

Let The Dead Past Bury Its Dead!