Proud People Breed Sad Sorrows For Themselves.

Thoughts Are Tyrants That Return Again And Again To Torment Us.

Wondered How Anyone Could Ever Imagine Unquiet Slumbers, For The Sleepers In That Quiet Earth.

Nay, You'll Be Ashamed Of Me Everyday Of Your Life," He Answered; "and The More Ashamed, The More You Know Me; And I Cannot Bide It.

Lines I Die But When The Grave Shall Press The Heart So Long Endeared To Thee When Earthy Cares No More Distress And Earthy Joys Are Nought To Me. Weep Not, But Think That I Have Past Before Thee O'er The Sea Of Gloom. Have Anchored Safe And Rest At Last Where Tears And Mouring Can Not Come. 'tis I Should Weep To Leave Thee Here On That Dark Ocean Sailing Drear With Storms Around And Fears Before And No Kind Light To Point The Shore. But Long Or Short Though Life May Be 'tis Nothing To Eternity. We Part Below To Meet On High Where Blissful Ages Never Die.

Vain Are The Thousand Creeds That Move Men's Hearts, Unutterably Vain; Worthless As Withered Weeds, Or Idlest Froth Amid The Boundless Main.