My Heart Like Moon-charmed Waters, All Unrest.

The Pleased Sea On A White-breasted Shore-- A Shore That Wears On Her Alluring Brows Rare Shells, Far Brought, The Love-gifts Of The Sea, That Blushed A Tell-tale.

To Sit For One's Portrait Is Like Being Present At One's Own Creation.

If We Were To Live Here Always, With No Other Care Than How To Feed, Clothe, And House Ourselves, Life Would Be A Very Sorry Business. It Is Immeasurably Heightened By The Solemnity Of Death.

To-day Is Always Different From Yesterday.

Fame Is But An Inscription On A Grave, And Glory The Melancholy Blazon On A Coffin Lid.