As rising morn shows
Its fair countenance agains the dusky night,--
As the clear spring, when winter's gloom is gone,--
So also the golden Helen was wont
To shine out amongst us.
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Quotes of the Day
If God wanted us to fly, He would have given us tickets.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Why sit ye idly dreaming all the day,
While the golden, precious hours flit away?
See you not the day is waning, waning fast?
That the morn's already vanished in the past?