The sobbing wind is fierce and strong; its cry is like a human wail.

Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover.

To-morrow I will begin, thought Katy, as she dropped asleep that night. How often we all do so! And what a pity it is that when morning comes and to-morrow is to-day, we so frequently wake up feeling quite differently; careless or impatient, and not a bit inclined to do the fine things we planned overnight.

True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.

Softly drops the crimson sun: Softly down from overhead, Drop the bell-notes, one by one, Melting in the melting red.

Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made anew.

So, just for one more merry day To the great Tree the leaflets clung, Frolicked and danced and had their way, Upon the autumn breezes swung.