As To The Pure Mind All Things

Ambition's Cradle Oftenest Is Its Grave

Gorgeous Flowerets In The Sunlight Shining, Blossoms Flaunting In The Eye Of Day, Tremulous Leaves, With Soft And Silver Lining, Buds That Open Only To Decay.

It Was Autumn, And Incessant Piped The Quails From Shocks And Sheaves, And, Like Living Coals, The Apples Burned Among The Withering Leaves.

Ah, To Build, To Build! That Is The Noblest Of All The Arts.

Silence Is A Great Peacemaker.