Pensive They Sit, And Roll

Much Have I Traveled In The Realms Of Gold, And Many Goodly States And Kingdoms Seen.

The Genius Of Shakespeare Was An Innate University.

I Shall Soon Be Laid In The Quiet Grave--thank God For The Quiet Grave--o! I Can Feel The Cold Earth Upon Me--the Daisies Growing Over Me--o For This Quiet--it Will Be My First.

There Is A Budding Morrow In Midnight.

Neither Poetry, Nor Ambition, Nor Love Have Any Alertness Of Countenance As They Pass By Me.