.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 "shafts and [stings?] of [rot?], [Magerus?] Misfortune." how long [unclear] to [unclear] alone the [force?] and [concentration?] of [unclear]. to feel myself in [home?] and mind [independent?] and unshackled. I hope my [unclear] shall now be [unclear] fulfilled.[Now?] this I have [unclear] [unclear] I left my [nature?] shores. My [unclear] [hell?] [unclear] only small gains. This land