The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.

My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season.

The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.

My dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings.

Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.

My spirits were elevated by the enchanting appearance of nature; the past was blotted from my memory, the present was tranquil, and the future gilded by bright rays of hope and anticipations of joy.