Mine Enemy is growing old --I have at last Revenge --The Palate of the Hate departs --If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits --It is a faded Meat --Anger as soon as fed is dead --'Tis starving makes it fat

To see her is a picture—To hear her is a tune—To know her an IntemperanceAs innocent as June—To know her not—Affliction—To own her for a FriendA warmth as near as if the SunWere shining in your Hand.

A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.

Elysium is as far as to The very nearest room, If in that room a friend await Felicity of doom.

My friends are my estate. Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them!

My only sketch, profile, of Heaven is a large blue sky, and larger than the biggest I have seen in June - and in it are my friends - every one of them.

The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend, - Or the most agonizing Spy - An Enemy - could send -

Till the first friend dies, we think our ecstasy impersonal, but then discover that he was the cup from which we drank it, itself as yet unknown.