Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.

The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled; And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?

Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.

To character and success, two things, contradictory as they may seem, must go together... humble dependence on God and manly reliance on self.

Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world; One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger - to let fall a tear; And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.

A light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove.