The Day Is Gone, And All Its

Through Buried Paths, Where Sleepy Twilight Dreams The Summer Time Away.

There Is An Old Saying "well Begun Is Half Done"-'tis A Bad One. I Would Use Instead-not Begun At All 'til Half Done.

Through The Sad Heart Of Ruth, When Sick For Home She Stood In Tears Amid The Alien Corn; The Same That Ofttimes Hath Charm'd Magic Casements, Opening On The Foam Of Perilous Seas, In Faery Lands Forlorn.

Load Every Rift With Ore.

There Is A Budding Morrow In Midnight.