And hear the pleasant cockoo, loud and long - The simple bird that thinks two notes a song.
W. H. DaviesWhen I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door.
W. H. DaviesPleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature's light.
W. H. DaviesPeace to these little broken leaves, That strew our common ground; That chase their tails, like silly dogs, As they go round and round. For though in winter boughs are bare, Let us not once forget Their summer glory, when these leaves Caught the great Sun in their strong net; And made him, in the lower air, Tremble - no bigger than a star!
W. H. Davies