Soft Is The Strain When

Speed The Soft Intercourse From Soul To Soul, And Waft A Sigh From Indus To The Pole.

Nor In The Critic Let The Man Be Lost.

I Find Myself Hoping A Total End Of All The Unhappy Divisions Of Mankind By Party-spirit, Which At Best Is But The Madness Of Many For The Gain Of A Few.

If A Man's Character Is To Be Abused There's Nobody Like A Relative To Do The Business.

Good God! How Often Are We To Die Before We Go Quite Off This Stage? In Every Friend We Lose A Part Of Ourselves, And The Best Part.