.MTIwNg.OTMxNzg

Thou still [could?] find me on my birthday! How in [humane?]. Still struggling up hill. [Lurking?] [milk?] Americans eye upon the favors of Fortune. Like the stalled [waggon?]. [Unclear] yet imbedded in debts. Yet hulling against the [setting?] tide. But [unclear] days begin to dawn. My [lands?] are [lebring?] my strength [unclear]. My footholds [tending?] firmer ground. The tide in the affairs of snow, which taking in this flood had on to glorious fortune: seems already beginning to [hum?] [with?] my break, as if to bear me to the long [cleared?] [hut?]. How long have I struggled against the