Thou Blossom Bright With Autumn

Thine Eyes Are Springs In Whose Serene And Silent Waters Heaven Is Seen. Their Lashes Are The Herbs That Look On Their Young Figures In The Brook.

The Sweet Calm Sunshine Of October, Now Warms The Low Spot; Upon Its Grassy Mold The Pur0ple Oak-leaf Falls; The Birchen Bough Drops Its Bright Spoil Like Arrow-heads Of Gold.

Lay Down The Axe; Fling By The Spade; Leave In Its Track The Toiling Plough; The Rifle And The Bayonet-blade For Arms Like Yours Were Fitter Now; And Let The Hands That Ply The Pen Quit The Light Task, And Learn To Wield The Horseman's Crooked Brand, And Rein The Charger On The Battle-field.

Difficulty Is The Nurse Of Greatness.

Heed Not The Night; A Summer Lodge Amid The Wild Is Mine, 'tis Shadowed By The Tulip-tree, 'tis Mantled By The Vine.