Some Must Follow And Some

The Day Is Dark And Cold And Dreary; It Rains, And The Wind Is Never Weary.

The Motives And Purposes Of Authors Are Not Always So Pure And High, As, In The Enthusiasm Of Youth, We Sometimes Imagine. To Many The Trumpet Of Fame Is Nothing But A Tin Horn To Call Them Home, Like Laborers From, The Field, At Dinner-time, And They Think Themselves Lucky To Get The Dinner.

Noble Souls, Through Dust And Heat, Rise From Disaster And Defeat The Stronger.

In December Ring Every Day The Chimes; Loud The Gleemen Sing In The Streets Their Merry Rhymes. Let Us By The Fire Ever Higher Sing Them Till The Night Expire!

All Things Must Change To Something New, To Something Strange.