Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- We are as they; Like them we fade away As doth a leaf.

A pin has a head, but has no hair

Let bygones be bygones.

Hope is like a hairball trembling from its birth.

Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago. ("The Key-Note")

Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.

O passing angel, speed me with a song, a melody of heaven to reach my heart and rouse me to the race and make me strong.