Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!

Ah, the pretty whisperers! It was very well When the leaves were thick and green, awhile ago-- Leaves are secret-keepers; but since the last leaf fell There is nothing hidden from the eyes below.

Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.

True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.

Softly drops the crimson sun: Softly down from overhead, Drop the bell-notes, one by one, Melting in the melting red.

Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!

Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow… and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin again.