Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.

Some must follow and some command, through all are made oclay.

Like black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass.

Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts.

All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain.

The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart.

Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions.