God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's Is ? not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be ? but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means.
Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride.
Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
Pippa's Song The year's at the spring The day's at the morn Morning's at seven, The Hill side's dew-pearled The lark's on the wing The snail's on the thorn God's in his heaven- All's right with the world