O'er hill and field October's glories fade; O'er hill and field the blackbirds southward fly; The brown leaves rustle down the forest glade, Where naked branches make a fitful shade, And the lost blooms of Autumn withered lie. — George Arnold Copy Share Image
The glass of your life is darkened, and darkly through it you see distorted and ghastly fragments of duty and destiny. — George Arnold Copy Share Image
I love this simple maiden, She grows upon me more and more, And--ask the moon who 't was that kissed, Last night upon the… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
O sweet September, thy first breezes bring The dry leaf's rustle and the squirrel's laughter, The cool fresh air whence health and vigor spring… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
Ah, many a one has started forth with hope and purpose high; Has fought throughout a weary life, and passed all pleasure by; Has… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
Here with my beer I sit, while golden moments flit: alas! They pass unheeded by: and as they fly, I, being dry, sit idly… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
But leave me to my beer! Gold is dross, love is loss, so if I gulp my sorrows down, or see them drown in… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
I hold that all the evil we know on earth finds in this violence done to love its true and legitimate birth. — George Arnold Copy Share Image
O'er hill and field October's glories fade; O'er hill and field the blackbirds southward fly; The brown leaves rustle down the forest glade, Where… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
Twas a jolly old pedagogue, long ago, Tall and slender, and sallow and dry; His form was bent, and his gait was slow, His… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
