I Am Not Your Dear; I Cannot

I Believe In Some Blending Of Hope And Sunshine Sweetening The Worst Lots. I Believe That This Life Is Not All; Neither The Beginning Nor The End. I Believe While I Tremble; I Trust While I Weep.

Such Is The Imperfect Nature Of Man! Such Spots Are There On The Disc Of The Clearest Planet; And Eyes Like Miss Scatcherd's Can Only See Those Minute Defects, And Are Blind To The Full Brightness Of The Orb.

I Would Always Rather Be Happy Than Dignified.

When You Are Inquisitive, Jane, You Always Make Me Smile. You Open Your Eyes Like An Eager Bird, And Make Every Now And Then A Restless Movement, As If Answers In Speech Did Not Flow Fast Enough For You, And You Wanted To Read The Tablet Of One's Heart.

Oh, I Am Not Going To Die, Am I? He Will Not Separate Us, We Have Been So Happy.