Why one day in the country Is worth a month in town; Is worth a day and a year Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion That days drone elsewhere.

Better by far you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad.

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow: Come one swallow, his mate will follow, The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.

Spring is when life's alive in everything.

I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?

What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow. What are brief? today and tomorrow. What are frail? spring blossoms and youth. What are deep? the ocean and truth.