Apothegms Form A Short Cut To Much

Peace And Rest At Length Have Come, All The Day's Long Toil Is Past; And Each Heart Is Whispering, "home, Home At Last!"

How Bravely Autumn Paints Upon The Sky The Gorgeous Fame Of Summer Which Is Fled!

I Saw Old Autumn In The Misty Morn Stand Shadowless Like Silence, Listening To Silence.

The Moon, The Moon, So Silver And Cold, Her Fickle Temper Has Oft Been Told, Now Shade--now Bright And Sunny-- But Of All The Lunar Things That Change, The One That Shows Most Fickle And Strange, And Takes The Most Eccentric Range, Is The Moon--so Called--of Honey!

The Year's In Wane; There Is Nothing Adorning; The Night Has No Eve, And The Day Has No Morning; Cold Winter Gives Warning!