He’s More Myself Than I

It Is Astonishing How Sociable I Feel Myself Compared With Him.

Last Night, I Was On The Threshold Of Hell. To-day, I Am Within Sight Of My Heaven. I Have My Eyes On It: Hardly Three Feet To Sever Me!

But There's This One Difference: One Is Gold Put To The Use Of Paving-stones, And The Other Is Tin Polished To Ape A Service Of Silver. Mine Has Nothing Valuable About It; Yet I Shall Have The Merit Of Making It Go As Far As Such Poor Stuff Can Go. His Had First-rate Qualities, And They Are Lost, Rendered Worst Than Unavailing.

It Was Not The Thorn Bending To The Honeysuckles, But The Honeysuckles Embracing The Thorn.

The Night Is Darkening Round Me, The Wild Winds Coldly Blow; But A Tyrant Spell Has Bound Me, And I Cannot, Cannot Go.