Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made anew.
Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.
- Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and i… - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and i…
Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin… - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin…
Now the last red ray is gone; Now the twilight shadows hie. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Now the last red ray is gone; Now the twilight shadows hie.
Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet, Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet, And golden locks in breezy play, Half teasing and half … - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet, Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet, And golden locks in breezy play, Half teasing and half …
Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover.
Softly drops the crimson sun: Softly down from overhead, Drop the bell-notes, one by one, Melting in the melting red. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
Softly drops the crimson sun: Softly down from overhead, Drop the bell-notes, one by one, Melting in the melting red.
True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.
The sobbing wind is fierce and strong; its cry is like a human wail. - Sarah Chauncey Woolsey
The sobbing wind is fierce and strong; its cry is like a human wail.
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