The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath

The Little Wind-flower, Whose Just Opened Eye Is Blue As The Spring Heaven It Gazes At.

Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again,- The Eternal Years Of God Are Hers; But Error, Wounded, Writhes With Pain, And Dies Among His Worshippers.

Come When The Rains Have Glazed The Snow And Clothed The Trees With Ice, While The Slant Sun Of February Pours Into The Bowers A Flood Of Light. Approach! The Incrusted Surface Shall Upbear Thy Steps And The Broad Arching Portals Of The Grove Welcome Thy Entering.

Autumn, The Year's Last, Loveliest Smile.

The Air Was Fragrant With A Thousand Trodden Aromatic Herbs, With Fields Of Lavender, And With The Brightest Roses Blushing In Tufts All Over The Meadows.