All Things Are Symbols.

Gone Are The Birds That Were Our Summer Guests.

Sorrow And Silence Are Strong, And Patient Endurance Is Godlike.

And As She Looked Around, She Saw How Death The Consoler, Laying His Hand Upon Many A Heart, Had Healed It Forever.

Men Should Soon Make Up Their Minds To Be Forgotten, And Look About Them, Or Within Them, For Some Higher Motive In What They Do Than The Approbation Of Men, Which Is Fame, Namely, Their Duty; That They Should Be Constantly And Quietly At Work, Each In His Sphere, Regardless Of Effects, And Leaving Their Fame To Take Care Of Itself.

The Bells Themselves Are The Best Of Preachers, Their Brazen Lips Are Learned Teachers, From Their Pulpits Of Stone, In The Upper Air, Sounding Aloft, Without Crack Or Flaw, Shriller Than Trumpets Under The Law, Now A Sermon And Now A Prayer.