The Wreck Of The Hesperus But The

The Morning Pouring Everywhere, Its Golden Glory On The Air.

So Nature Deals With Us, And Takes Away Our Playthings One By One, And By The Hand Leads Us To Rest.

The Shadows Of The Mind Are Like Those Of The Body. In The Morning Of Life They All Lie Behind Us; At Noon We Trample Them Under Foot; And In The Evening They Stretch Long, Broad, And Deepening Before Us.

God's Voice Was Not In The Earthquake, Not In The Fire, Nor The Storm, But It Was In The Whispering Breezes.

Day, Like A Weary Pilgrim, Had Reached The Western Gate Of Heaven, And Evening Stooped Down To Unloose The Latchets Of His Sandal Shoon.