New York. Journals, letters, &c.
How much, preventing God, how much I oweDi te, finer, chiesto non hai severe
To the defences thou hast round me set!
Example, Custom, Fear, Occasion slow,—
These scorned bondsmen were my parapet.
I dare not peep over this parapet,
To gauge with glance the roaring gulf below,
The depths of sin to which I had descended,
Had not these me against myself defended.
Ragione a te; di sua virtu non cade
Sospetto in cor conscio a se stesso.
He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend;
Eternity mourns that. 'T is an ill cure
For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them,
Where sorrow's held intrusive, and turned out,
There wisdom will not enter, nor true power,
Nor aught that, dignifies humanity.Taflos