Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth.
Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.
Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.
My heart is like a singing bird.
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.
Observe this dew-drenched rose of Tyrian gardens A rose today. But you will ask in vain Tomorrow what it is; and yesterday It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains.