He Mastered Whatever Was Not Worth The

Sorrow Is The Great Idealizer.

The Stiff Rails Were Softened To Swan's-down, And Still Fluttered Down The Snow.

And Blessed Are The Horny Hands Of Toil.

The Time Is Ripe, And Rotten-ripe, For Change.

Truly There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men; But There Is No Gulf-stream Setting Forever In One Direction.