So dull and dark are the November days. The lazy mist high up the evening curled, And now the morn quite hides in smoke and haze; The place we occupy seems all the world.

Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May New blooming blossoms neath the sun are born, And all poor April's charms are swept away.

The best way to avoid a bad action is by doing a good one, for there is no difficulty in the world like that of trying to do nothing.

He could not die when the trees were green, For he loved the time too well.

I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.

The present is the funeral of the past, And man the living sepulchre of life.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;... There to abide with my Creator, God.