My Days Are In The Yellow Leaf;

Of All The Horrid, Hideous Notes Of Woe, Sadder Than Owl-songs Or The Midnight Blast; Is That Portentous Phrase, "i Told You So.

It Would Be Difficult, Perhaps, To Find The Annals Of A Nation Less Stained With Crimes Than Those Of The Armenians, Whose Virtues Have Been Those Of Peace, And Their Vices Those Of Compulsion. But Whatever May Have Been Their Destiny And It Has Been Bitter Whatever It May Be In Future, Their Country Must Ever Be One Of The Most Interesting On The Globe.

A Legal Broom's A Moral Chimney-sweeper, And That's The Reason He Himself's So Dirty

Men Love In Haste, But They Detest At Leisure.

Sorrow Preys Upon Its Solitude, And Nothing More Diverts It From Its Sad Visions Of The Other World Than Calling It At Moments Back To This. The Busy Have No Time For Tears.