When One By One Our Ties Are

You, That Have Toiled During Youth, To Set Your Son Upon Higher Ground, And To Enable Him To Begin Where You Left Off, Do Not Expect That Son To Be What You Were, - Diligent, Modest, Active, Simple In His Tastes, Fertile In Resources. You Have Put Him Under Quite A Different Master. Poverty Educated You; Wealth Will Educate Him. You Cannot Suppose The Result Will Be The Same.

Say Not 'good-night' But In Some Brighter Clime, Bid Me 'good-morning.'

The First Pale Blossom Of The Unripened Year.

Man Is The Nobler Growth Our Realms Supply, And Souls Are Ripened In Our Northern Sky.

We Can Only Love What We Know.