When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God.

And bitter waxed the fray; Brother with brother spake no word When they met in the way.

I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.