As To The Pure Mind All Things

I Love The Season Well When Forest Glades Are Teeming With Bright Forms, Nor Dark And Many-folded Clouds Foretell The Coming Of Storms.

Ah, How Good It Feels! The Hand Of An Old Friend.

No Tears Dim The Sweet Look That Nature Wears.

As Turning The Logs Will Make A Dull Fire Burn, So Change Of Studies A Dull Brain.

There's Nothing In This World So Sweet As Love. And Next To Love The Sweetest Thing Is Hate.