At First I Was Almost

The Sea Appears All Golden. Beneath The Sun-lit Sky.

Whether A Revolution Succeeds Or Fails People Of Great Hearts Will Always Be Sacrificed To It.

A Pine Tree Standeth Lonely In The North On An Upland Bare; It Standeth Whitely Shrouded With Snow, And Sleepeth There. It Dreameth Of A Palm Tree Which Far In The East Alone, In The Mournful Silence Standeth On Its Ridge Of Burning Stone.

The Same Fact That Boccaccio Offers In Support Of Religion Might Be Adduced In Behalf Of A Republic: "it Exists In Spite Of Its Ministers.

The Artist Is The Child In The Popular Fable, Every One Of Whose Tears Was A Pearl.