A Man Gazing At The

Men And Women Make Their Own Beauty Or Their Own Ugliness. Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton Speaks In One Of His Novels Of A Man "who Was Uglier Than He Had Any Business To Be;" And, If We Could But Read It, Every Human Being Carries His Life In His Face, And Is Good-looking Or The Reverse As That Life Has Been Good Or Evil. On Our Features The Fine Chisels Of Thought And Emotion Are Eternally At Work.

My Heart Like Moon-charmed Waters, All Unrest.

Stirling, Like A Huge Brooch, Clasps Highlands And Lowlands Together.

Every Day Travels Toward Death; The Last Only Arrives At It.

To Be Occasionally Quoted Is The Only Fame I Care For.