Memory, The Warder Of The Brain.

Weary With Toil, I Haste Me To My Bed The Dear Repose For Limbs With Travel Tired; But Then Begins A Journey In My Head To Work My Mind, When Body's Work's Expir'd: For Then My Thoughts-from Far Where I Abide- Intend A Zealous Pilgrimage To Thee, And Keep My Drooping Eyelids Open Wide, Looking On Darkness Which The Blind Do See: Save That My Soul's Imaginary Sight Presents Thy Shadow To My Sightless View, Which, Like A Jewel Hung In Ghastly Night, Makes Black Night Beauteous And Her Old Face New. Lo! Thus, By Day My Limbs, By Night My Mind, For Thee, And For Myself No Quiet Find.

And When I Am Forgotten, As I Shall Be, And Asleep In Dull Cold Marble, Where No Mention Of Me Must Be Heard Of, Say, I Taught Thee.

Sometimes When We Are Labeled, When We Are Branded Our Brand Becomes Our Calling.

He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Taffeta Phrases, Silken Terms Precise, Three-piled Hyperboles, Spruce Affection, Figures Pedantical--these Summer Flies Have Blown Me Full Of Maggot Ostentation.