Only I Discern Infinite Passion, And The

'tis An Awkward Thing To Play With Souls.

Autumn Wins You Best By This Its Mute Appeal To Sympathy For Its Decay.

When Is Man Strong Until He Feels Alone?

I Trust In Nature For The Stable Laws Of Beauty And Utility. Spring Shall Plant And Autumn Garner To The End Of Time. I Trust In God,-the Right Shall Be The Right And Other Than The Wrong, While He Endures. I Trust In My Own Soul, That Can Perceive The Outward And The Inward,-nature's Good And God's.

All Good Things Are Ours, Nor Soul Helps Flesh More, Now, Than Flesh Helps Soul!