Day's Lustrous Eyes Grow Heavy In Sweet

There Is No Solitude In Nature.

Man Ever Talks, And Man Ever Dreams Of Better Days That Are Yet To Be, After Glittering Goal, That Distant Gleams, Running And Racing Untiringly. The Worldly May Grow Old And Young As It Will, But The Hope Of Man Is Improvement Still. Hope Bears Him Into Life In Her Arms, She Flutters Around The Boy's Young Bloom, The Soul Of Youth With Her Magic Warms, Nor Rests With Age In The Silent Tomb; For Ends Man His Weary Course At The Grave, There Plants He Hope O'er His Ashes To Wave.

Youth Covets; Let Not This Covetousness Seduce You.

The Key To Education Is The Experience Of Beauty.

If The Art Of Gardening Is At Last To Turn Back From Her Extravagances And Rest With Her Other Sisters, It Is, Above Everything, Necessary To Have Clearly Before You What You Require . . . It Is Certainly Tasteless And Inconsistent To Desire To Encompass The World With A Garden-wall, But Very Practicable And Reasonable To Make A Garden . . . Into A Characteristic Whole To The Eye, Heart, And Nderstanding Alike.