There Is Nothing So Skillful

O Winter! Frozen Pulse And Heart Of Fire, What Loss Is Theirs Who From Thy Kingdom Turn Dismayed, And Think Thy Snow A Sculptured Urn Of Death! Far Sooner In Midsummer Tire The Streams Than Under Ice. June Could Not Hire Her Roses To Forego The Strength They Learn In Sleeping On Thy Breast.

But All Lost Things Are In The Angels' Keeping, Love; No Past Is Dead For Us, But Only Sleeping, Love; The Years Of Heaven With All Earth's Little Pain Make Good Together There We Can Begin Again, In Babyhood.

There Cannot Be Found In The Animal Kingdom A Bat, Or Any Other Creature, So Blind In Its Own Range Of Circumstance And Connection, As The Greater Majority Of Human Beings Are In The Bosoms Of Their Families

One Of Dr. Johnson's Ingredients Of Happiness Was, "a Little Less Time Than You Want." That Means Always To Have So Many Things You Want To See, To Have, And To Do, That No Day Is Quite Long Enough For All You Think You Would Like To Get Done Before You Go To Bed.

Wounded Vanity Knows When It Is Mortally Hurt; And Limps Off The Field, Piteous, All Disguises Thrown Away. But Pride Carries Its Banner To The Last; And Fast As It Is Driven From One Field Unfurls It In Another, Never Admitting That There Is A Shade Less Honor In The Second Field Than In The First, Or In The Third Than In The Second.