ABSTRACT
The morning of the first of November dawned; a cheery day. Men went to their usual works: the earth, despoiled of her summer garniture, yet bore the change with sober content; for the sun shone, and soft airs, despite the coming winter, lightly shook the scant and altered foliage of the woods: All rose to do the task He set to each,Who shaped us to his ends, and not our own.And many roseWhose woe was such, that fear became desire.b /
