How Bravely Autumn Paints Upon The Sky

How Bless'd The Heart That Has A Friend. A Sympathizing Ear To Lend.

Whoe'er Has Gone Thro' London Street, Has Seen A Butcher Gazing At His Meat, And How He Keeps Gloating Upon A Sheep's Or Bullock's Personals, As If His Own; How He Admires His Halves And Quarters--and His Calves, As If In Truth Upon His Own Legs Grown.

Oh, If It Be To Choose And Call Thee Mine, Love, Thou Art Every Day My Valentine!

And There Is Even A Happiness That Makes The Heart Afraid.

There Is A Silence Where Hath Been No Sound, There Is A Silence Where No Sound May Be,- In The Cold Grave, Under The Deep, Deep Sea, Or In The Wide Desert Where No Life Is Found.