I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets. – Hamlin Garland
There is no gilding of setting sun or glamor of poetry to light up the ferocious and endless toil of the farmers wives. – Hamlin Garland
Category:
Author