Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.

He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man.

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again.

Autumn arrives like a warrior with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood.

Our hearts are lamps for ever burning.