Yet There Are Some Resting-places,

The Moon Looks Upon Many Night Flowers; The Night Flowers See But One Moon.

Youth! Youth! How Buoyant Are Thy Hopes! They Turn, Like Marigolds, Toward The Sunny Side.

A Healthful Hunger For A Great Idea Is The Beauty And Blessedness Of Life.

The Moon Is Bleached As White As Wool, And Just Dropping Under; Every Star Is Gone But Three, And They Hang Far Asunder,-- There's A Sea-ghost All In Gray, A Tall Shape Of Wonder!

Crowds Of Bees Are Giddy With Clover Crowds Of Grasshoppers Skip At Our Feet, Crowds Of Larks At Their Matins Hang Over, Thanking The Lord For A Life So Sweet.