What Else Remains For Me? Youth, Hope

Thus Departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha The Beloved, In The Glory Of The Sunset, In The Purple Mists Of Evening, To The Regions Of The Home-wind, Of The Northwest-wind, Keewaydin, To The Islands Of The Blessed, To The Kingdom Of Ponemah, To The Land Of The Hereafter!

Love Makes Its Record In Deeper Colors As We Grow Out Of Childhood Into Manhood; As The Emperors Signed Their Names In Green Ink When Under Age, But When Of Age, In Purple.

Magnificent Autumn! He Comes Not Like A Pilgrim, Clad In Russet Weeds; Not Like A Hermit, Clad In Gray; But Like A Warrior With The Stain Of Blood In His Brazen Mail.

Art Is Long, And Time Is Fleeting.

Yes, We Must Ever Be Friends; And Of All Who Offer You Friendship Let Me Be Ever The First, The Truest, The Nearest And Dearest.