I Find I Cannot Exist Without Poetry

I Shall Soon Be Laid In The Quiet Grave - Thank God For The Quiet Grave

O Magic Sleep! O Comfortable Bird, That Broodest O'er The Troubled Sea Of The Mind Till It Is Hush'd And Smooth!

Land And Sea, Weakness And Decline Are Great Separators, But Death Is The Great Divorcer For Ever.

There Is A Budding Morrow In Midnight.

He, Who Is Gone, Was One Of The Very Kindest Friends I Possessed, And Yet He Was Not Kinder Perhaps To Me, Than To Others. His Intense Mind And Powerful Feelings Would, I Truly Believe, Have Done The World Some Service, Had His Life Been Spared But He Was Of Too Sensitive A Nature And Thus He Was Destroyed!