He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him.

The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time to him Is aristocracy.

Beauty crowds me till I die. Beauty, mercy have on me! Yet if I expire to-day Let it be in sight of thee!

If I can stop one Heart from breaking I shall not live in vain.

That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.

Safe Despair it is that raves-Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.

Eden is that old-fashioned House We dwell in even-day; Without suspecting our abode Until we drive away.

A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within.

How do most people live without any thoughts? There are many people in the world-you must have noticed them in the street-how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?

Assent-and you are sane-Demure-you're straightaway dangerous-And handled with a Chain-.