The death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover.

The past is a pebble in my shoe.

The rain came down upon my head - Unshelter'd. And the wind rendered me mad and deaf and blind.

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting...

Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied,- "If you seek for Eldorado.

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

I have been happy, though in a dream. I have been happy-and I love the theme: Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife