Difficulty Is The Nurse Of Greatness.

The Groves Were God's First Temples.

Loveliest Of Lovely Things Are They, On Earth, That Soonest Pass Away. The Rose That Lives Its Little Hour Is Prized Beyond The Sculptured Flower.

Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again,- The Eternal Years Of God Are Hers; But Error, Wounded, Writhes With Pain, And Dies Among His Worshippers.

The February Sunshine Steeps Your Boughs And Tints The Buds And Swells The Leaves Within.

The Sweet Calm Sunshine Of October, Now Warms The Low Spot; Upon Its Grassy Mold The Pur0ple Oak-leaf Falls; The Birchen Bough Drops Its Bright Spoil Like Arrow-heads Of Gold.