Stain my eyes as I may, on all sides all is black.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

Most men call fretting a minor fault, a foible, and not a vice. There is no vice except drunkenness which can so utterly destroy the peace, the happiness of a hoe.

O month when they who love must love and wed.

The wild mustard in Southern California is like that spoken of in the New Testament. . . . Its gold is as distinct a value to the eye as the nugget gold is in the pocket.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.