I Have Not Loved The

What Is Death, So It Be But Glorious? 'tis A Sunset; And Mortals May Be Happy To Resemble The Gods But In Decay.

The Fact Is That My Wife If She Had Common Sense Would Have More Power Over Me Than Any Other Whatsoever, For My Heart Always Alights Upon The Nearest Perch.

Dim With The Mist Of Years, Gray Flits The Shade Of Power.

You Gave Me The Key To Your Heart, My Love, Then Why Did You Make Me Knock?

What A Strange Thing Is Man! And What A Stranger Is Woman.