In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!

How like they are to human things!

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Many people do not allow their principles to take root, but pull them up every now and then, as children do the flowers they have planted, to see if they are growing.

Whoever benefits his enemy with straightforward intention that man's enemies will soon fold their hands in devotion.

Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and silence.