A Lady With A Lamp

Life Hath Quicksands, Life Hath Snares!

It Is The Heart And Not The Brain, That To The Highest Doth Attain.

I Know Not How It Is, But During A Voyage I Collect Books As A Ship Does Barnacles.

Softly The Evening Came. The Sun From The Western Horizon Like A Magician Extended His Golden Want O'er The Landscape; Trinkling Vapors Arose; And Sky And Water And Forest Seemed All On Fire At The Touch, And Melted And Mingled Together.

The Counterfeit And Counterpart Of Nature Is Reproduced In Art.