No Voice; But Oh - The Silence

A Bitter And Perplexed "what Shall I Do?" Is Worse To Man Than Worse Necessity.

It Has Been Observed Before That Images, However Beautiful, Though Faithfully Copied From Nature, And As Accurately Represented In Words, Do Not Of Themselves Characterize The Poet. They Become Proofs Of Original Genius Only As Far As They Are Modified By A Predominant Passion; Or By Associated Thoughts Or Images Awakened By That Passion; Or When They Have The Effect Of Reducing Multitude To Unity, Or Succession To An Instant; Or Lastly, When A Human And Intellectual Life Is Transferred To Them From The Poet's Spirit.

To Be Beloved Is All I Need, And Whom I Love, I Love Indeed.

If A Man Could Pass Through Paradise In A Dream, And Have A Flower Presented To Him As A Pledge That His Soul Had Really Been There, And If He Found That Flower In His Hand When He Awake - Aye, What Then?

You May Depend Upon It, Religion Is, In Its Essence, The Most Gentlemanly Thing In The World. It Will Alone Gentilize, If Unmixed With Cant; And I Know Nothing Else That Will, Alone. Certainly Not The Army, Which Is Thought To Be The Grand Embellisher Of Manners.