It’s No Company At All,

Your Presence Is A Moral Poison That Would Contaminate The Most Virtuous

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same; And Linton's Is As Different As A Moonbeam From Lightning, Or Frost From Fire

What Kind Of Living Will It Be When You - Oh, God! Would You Like To Live With Your Soul In The Grave?

I Lingered Round Them, Under That Benign Sky; Watched The Moths Fluttering Among The Heath And Hare-bells; Listened To The Soft Wind Breathing Through The Grass; And Wondered How Anyone Could Ever Imagine Unquiet Slumbers For The Sleepers In That Quiet Earth.

Yes, As My Swift Days Near Their Goal, 'tis All That I Implore: In Life And Death A Chainless Soul, With Courage To Endure.