Great Men Stand Like Solitary Towers In

The Holiest Of Holidays Are Those Kept By Ourselves In Silence And Apart; The Secret Anniversaries Of The Heart.

Be Still, Sad Heart! And Cease Repining; Behind The Clouds Is The Sun Still Shining; Thy Fate Is The Common Fate Of All, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

My Soul Is Full Of Longing For The Secret Of The Sea, And The Heart Of The Great Ocean Sends A Thrilling Pulse Through Me.

Then From The Neighboring Thicket The Mocking-bird, Wildest Of Singers, Swinging Aloft On A Willow Spray That Hung O'er The Water, Shook From His Little Throat Such Floods Of Delirious Music, That The Whole Air And The Woods And The Waves Seemed Silent To Listen.

Fame Grows Like A Tree If It Have The Principle Of Growth In It; The Accumulated Dews Of Ages Freshen Its Leaves.