All things that pass Are wisdom's looking-glass.

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

The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.

Remember me when I am gone away, gone far away into the silent land.

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