Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

I have been an "Official" all my life, without the least turn for it. I never could attain a true official manner, which is highly artificial and handles trifles with ludicrously disproportionate gravity.

Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.

The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.

Autumn's the mellow time.

Politeness costs nothing. Nothing, that is, to him that shows it; but if often costs the world very dear.