Romances I Ne'er Read Like Those I

A Woman Being Never At A Loss... The Devil Always Sticks By Them.

My Slumbers--if I Slumber--are Not Sleep, But A Continuance Of Enduring Thought, Which Then I Can Resist Not: In My Heart There Is A Vigil, And These Eyes But Close To Look Within; And Yet I Live, And Bear The Aspect And The Form Of Breathing Men.

Maidens, Like Moths, Are Ever Caught, By Glare, And Mammon Wins His Way Where Seraphs Might Despair.

As Long As I Retain My Feeling And My Passion For Nature, I Can Partly Soften Or Subdue My Other Passions And Resist Or Endure Those Of Others.

A Small Drop Of Ink Makes Thousands, Perhaps Millions... Think.