Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
At some glad moment was it nature's choice to dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
January is here, with eyes that keenly glow, A frost-mailed warrior striding a shadowy steed of snow.
We say of the oak, How grand of girth! Of the willow we say, How slender! And yet to the soft grass clothing the earth How slight is the praise we render.