A Narrow Fellow In The Grass Occasionally

Besides The Autumn Poets Sing, A Few Prosaic Days, A Little This Side Of The Snow, And That Side Of The Haze..., Grant Me, Oh Lord, A Sunny Mind- Thy Windy Will To Bear!

I Hope Your Rambles Have Been Sweet, And Your Reveries Spacious

Action Is Redemption.

It Is True That The Unknown Is The Largest Need Of The Intellect, Though For It, No One Thinks To Thank God.

Old Age Comes On Suddenly, And Not Gradually As Is Thought.