Never A Lip Is Curved

Hark! I Hear The Tramp Of Thousands, And Of Armèd Men The Hum; Lo, A Nation's Hosts Have Gathered Round The Quick Alarming Drum Saying, Come, Freemen, Come! Ere Your Heritage Be Wasted, Said The Quick Alarming Drum.

If, Of All Words Of Tongue And Pen, The Saddest Are, It Might Have Been,' More Sad Are These We Daily See: 'it Is, But Hadn't Ought To Be!'

There Is Peace In The Swamp, Though The Quiet Is Death

Besides Writing, I Have Been Teaching Myself To 'develop' My Own Photographic Plates, And I Haven't A Stick Of Clothing Or An Exposed Finger That Isn't Stained. I Sit For Hours In A Dark-room Feeling As If I Were A Very Elderly Faust At Some Dreadful Incantation, And Come Out Of It, Blinding At The Light, Like A Bastille Prisoner. And Yet I Am Not Successful!

Perhaps There Is No Gift Of Nature That Requires As Little Exertion On The Part Of The Owner As Personal Beauty. I Am Not Certain But That It Is This Very Absence Of Effort Which Excites Our Admiration.