Don't Scatter Your Fire! You Are A

Conversation's Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You've Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, An' It Wears A Person Out.

To Let God Make Us, Instead Of Painfully Trying To Make Ourselves; To Follow The Path That His Love Shows Us, Instead Of Through Conceit Or Cowardice Or Mockery Choosing Another; To Trust Him For Our Strength And Fitness As The Flowers Do, Simply Giving Ourselves Back To Him In Grateful Service,—this Is To Keep The Laws That Give Us The Freedom Of The City In Which There Is No Longer Any Night Of Bewilderment Or Ignorance Or Uncertainty.

This Was One Of Those Perfect New England Days In Late Summer Where The Spirit Of Autumn Takes A First Stealing Flight, Like A Spy, Through The Ripening Country-side, And, With Feigned Sympathy For Those Who Droop With August Heat, Puts Her Cool Cloak Of Bracing Air About Leaf And Flower And Human Shoulders.

Life Was Resumed, And Anxious Living Blew Away As If It Had Not Been. I Could Not Breathe Deep Enough Or Long Enough. It Was A Return To Happiness.

Look Bravely Up Into The Sky, And Be Content With Knowing That God Wished For A Buttercup Just Here, Where You Are Growing.