Wounded Vanity Knows When It Is Mortally

Who Waits Until The Wind Shall Silent Keep Will Never Find The Ready Hour To Sow.

O Winter! Frozen Pulse And Heart Of Fire, What Loss Is Theirs Who From Thy Kingdom Turn Dismayed, And Think Thy Snow A Sculptured Urn Of Death! Far Sooner In Midsummer Tire The Streams Than Under Ice. June Could Not Hire Her Roses To Forego The Strength They Learn In Sleeping On Thy Breast.

Like A Blind Spinner In The Sun,i Tread My Days:i Know That All The Threads Will Runappointed Ways.i Know Each Day Will Bring Its Task,and Being Blind No More I Ask.

One Of Dr. Johnson's Ingredients Of Happiness Was, "a Little Less Time Than You Want." That Means Always To Have So Many Things You Want To See, To Have, And To Do, That No Day Is Quite Long Enough For All You Think You Would Like To Get Done Before You Go To Bed.

I Know The Lands Are Lit, With All The Autumn Blaze Of Goldenrod.