I See A Lily On Thy Brow,

I Have Met With Women Whom I Really Think Would Like To Be Married To A Poem And To Be Given Away By A Novel.

He Who Saddens At Thought Of Idleness Cannot Be Idle, / And He's Awake Who Thinks Himself Asleep.

Scenery Is Fine - But Human Nature Is Finer.

A Poet Is The Most Unpoetical Of Anything In Existence; Because He Has No Identity He Is Continually Informing And Filling Some Other Body.

So Let Me Be Thy Choir, And Make A Moan Upon The Midnight Hours.