Then Stars Arise, And The Night Is

The Air Of Summer Was Sweeter Than Wine.

For The Structure That We Raise, Time Is With Materials Filled; Our To-days And Yesterdays Are The Blocks With Which We Build.

The Sunshine Fails, The Shadows Grow More Dreary, And I Am Near To Fall, Infirm And Weary.

A Millstone And The Human Heart Are Driven Ever Round, If They Have Nothing Else To Grind, They Must Themselves Be Ground.

Youth Comes But Once A Life Time. Perhaps, But It Remains Strong In Many For Their Entire Lives.