The Sunshine Fails, The Shadows Grow More

The Warriors That Fought For Their Country, And Bled, Have Sunk To Their Rest; The Damp Earth Is Their Bed; No Stone Tells The Place Where Their Ashes Repose, Nor Points Out The Spot From The Graves Of Their Foes. They Died In Their Glory, Surrounded By Fame, And Victory's Loud Trump Their Death Did Proclaim; They Are Dead; But They Live In Each Patriot's Breast, And Their Names Are Engraven On Honor's Bright Crest.

Fear Is The Virtue Of Slaves; But The Heart That Loveth Is Willing.

Every Dew-drop And Rain-drop Had A Whole Heaven Within It.

Talk Not Of Wasted Affection - Affection Never Was Wasted.

All Things Must Change To Something New, To Something Strange.