When Time Is Spent, Eternity Begins.

When Time Is Spent, Eternity Begins.

O May, Sweet-voice One, Going Thus Before, Forever June May Pour Her Warm Red Wine Of Life And Passions,--sweeter Days Are Thine!

On The King's Gate The Moss Grew Gray;the King Came Not. They Called Him Deadand Made His Eldest Son One Dayslave In His Father's Stead.

That Indescribable Expression Peculiar To People Who Hope They Have Not Been Asleep, But Know They Have.

If I Could Write A Story That Would Do For The Indian One-hundredth Part What 'uncle Tom's Cabin' Did For The Negro, I Would Be Thankful The Rest Of My Life.