Fade Far Away, Dissolve, And

Literary Men Are . . . A Perpetual Priesthood.

I See A Lily On Thy Brow, With Anguish Moist And Fever Dew; And On Thy Cheek A Fading Rose Fast Withereth Too.

We Must Repeat The Often Repeated Saying, That It Is Unworthy A Religious Man To View An Irreligious One Either With Alarm Or Aversion, Or With Any Other Feeling Than Regret And Hope And Brotherly Commiseration.

A Little Noiseless Noise Among The Leaves, Born Of The Very Sigh That Silence Heaves.

The Creature Has A Purpose, And His Eyes Are Bright With It.