Come out — pretty Rose-Bud, — my lone, timid one! Come forth from thy green leaves, and peep at the sun! For little he does, in these dull autumn hou… - Hannah Flagg Gould

Alone I walked on the ocean strand, A pearly shell was in my hand; I stooped, and wrote upon the sand My name, the year, the day. As onward from the sport I passed, One lingering look behind I cast, A wave came rolling high and fast, And washed my lines away.

I am feeble, pale and weary, And my wings are nearly furled; I have caused a scene so dreary, I am glad to quit the world! With bitterness I'm thinking On the evil I have done, And to my caverns sinking From the coming of the sun.

The Frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And he said, "Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence I'll take my way."