I have not loved the world, nor the world me, but let us part fair foes; I do believe, though I have found them not, that there may be words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, and virtues which are merciful, or weave snares for the failing: I would also deem o'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; that two, or one, are almost what they seem, that goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss.

Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.

Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.

History - the devil's scripture