Life Like An Empty Dream Flits By.

I Like That Ancient Saxon Phrase, Which Calls The Burial-ground God's-acre! It Is Just; It Consecrates Each Grave Within Its Walls, And Breathes A Benison O'er The Sleeping Dust.

I Love Thee, As The Good Love Heaven.

It Is A Beautiful Trait In The Lover's Character, That They Think No Evil Of The Object Loved.

The Love Of Learning, The Sequestered Nooks, And All The Sweet Serenity Of Books.

There Is No Grief Like The Grief That Does Not Speak.