Now To Rivulets From The Mountains Point

Nothing That Is Can Pause Or Stay.

Whatever Poet, Orator, Or Sage May Say Of It, Old Age Is Still Old Age.

The Laws Of Nature Are Just, But Terrible. There Is No Weak Mercy In Them. Cause And Consequence Are Inseparable And Inevitable.

Ah, How Wonderful Is The Advent Of The Spring!—the Great Annual Miracle.... Which No Force Can Stay, No Violence Restrain, Like Love, That Wins Its Way And Cannot Be Withstood By Any Human Power, Because Itself Is Divine Power. If Spring Came But Once In A Century, Instead Of Once A Year, Or Burst Forth With The Sound Of An Earthquake, And Not In Silence, What Wonder And Expectation Would There Be In All Hearts To Behold The Miraculous Change!... We Are Like Children Who Are Astonished And Delighted Only By The Second-hand Of The Clock, Not By The Hour-hand.

I Like That Ancient Saxon Phrase, Which Calls, The Burial-ground God's-acre.