Mark! Where his carnage and his conquests cease, He makes a solitude and calls it-peace!
Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
Sleep hath its own world, and the wide realm of wild reality.
It is odd but agitation or contest of any kind gives a rebound to my spirits and sets me up for a time.
Talent may be in time forgiven, but genius never