In Ourselves Are Triumph And Defeat.

I Love An Author The More For Having Been Himself A Lover Of Books.

In December Ring Every Day The Chimes; Loud The Gleemen Sing In The Streets Their Merry Rhymes. Let Us By The Fire Ever Higher Sing Them Till The Night Expire!

Chill Air And Wintry Winds! My Ear Has Grown Familiar With Your Song; I Hear It In The Opening Year, I Listen, And It Cheers Me Long.

Learn To Labour And To Wait.

Day Of The Lord, As All Our Days Should Be!