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

...this pause of rest, This morning hush before the sun.

Dry leaves upon the wall, Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape, A single frosted cluster on the grape Still hangs--and that is all.

Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.

Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!

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.

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