Days Decrease, / And Autumn Grows, Autumn

What Joy Is Better Than The News Of Friends?

What? Was Man Made A Wheel-work To Wind Up, And Be Discharged, And Straight Wound Up Anew? No! Grown, His Growth Lasts; Taught, He Ne'er Forgets: May Learn A Thousand Things, Not Twice The Same.

Rejoice That Man Is Hurled, From Change To Change Unceasingly, His Soul's Wings Never Furled!

Truth Is Within Ourselves.

This Could But Have Happened Once,- And We Missed It, Lost It Forever.