I Know The Lands Are Lit, With

O Month When They Who Love Must Love And Wed.

Nothing Can Be So Bad As To Be Displeased With One's Self.

The Wild Mustard In Southern California Is Like That Spoken Of In The New Testament. . . . Its Gold Is As Distinct A Value To The Eye As The Nugget Gold Is In The Pocket.

Great Loves, To The Last, Have Pulses Red; All Great Loves That Have Ever Died Dropped Dead.

The Goldenrod Is Yellow, The Corn Is Turning Brown, The Trees In Apple Orchards With Fruit Are Bending Down.