Lord Help My Poor Soul.

Finally On Sunday Morning, October 7, 1849, "he Became Quiet And Seemed To Rest For A Short Time. Then, Gently, Moving His Head," He Said, "lord Help My Poor Soul." As He Had Lived So He Died-in Great Misery And Tragedy.

In Our Endeavors To Recall To Memory Something Long Forgotten, We Often Find Ourselves Upon The Very Verge Of Remembrance, Without Being Able, In The End, To Remember.

There Are Some Secrets Which Do Not Permit Themselves To Be Told.

If You Run Out Of Ideas Follow The Road; You'll Get There

Once Upon A Midnight Dreary