History Casts Its Shadow Far Into The

I Will Be A Man Among Men; And No Longer A Dreamer Among Shadows.

The Lowest Ebb Is The Turn Of The Tide.

A Sermon Is No Sermon In Which I Cannot Hear The Heartbeat.

What Heart Has Not Acknowledged The Influence Of This Hour, The Sweet And Soothing Hour Of Twilight, The Hour Of Love, The Hour Of Adoration, The Hour Of Rest, When We Think Of Those We Love Only To Regret That We Have Not Loved Them More Dearly, When We Remember Our Enemies Only To Forgive Them.

It Was Autumn, And Incessant Piped The Quails From Shocks And Sheaves, And, Like Living Coals, The Apples Burned Among The Withering Leaves.