My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close

November Always Seemed To Me The Norway Of The Year.

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose.

Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony Is Frugal. Puts Itself Severe Away For Its Own Perusal.

Remorse Is Cureless--the Disease Not Even God--can Heal-- For 'tis His Institution--and The Adequate Of Hell

Memory Is A Strange Bell—jubilee, And Knell.