O beautiful, awful summer day, what hast thou given, what taken away?
To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution.
Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
Know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.
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.
Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood.