No Craving Void Left Aching

Most Authors Steal Their Works, Or Buy.

Hills Peep O'er Hills, And Alps On Alps Arise.

Chaos Of Thought And Passion, All Confused; Still By Himself Abused Or Disabused; Created Half To Rise, And Half To Fall; Great Lord Of All Things, Yet A Prey To All; Sole Judge Of Truth, In Endless Error Hurled,- The Glory, Jest, And Riddle Of The World.

Death, Only Death, Can Break The Lasting Chain; And Here, Ev'n Then, Shall My Cold Dust Remain

Is There No Bright Reversion In The Sky, For Those Who Greatly Think Or Bravely Die?