Pleasure'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.
As long as I love Beauty I am young.
It was the rainbow gave thee birth, and left thee all her lovely hues.
Now shall I walk or shall I ride? 'Ride,' Pleasure said; 'Walk,' Joy replied.
I love thee for a heart that’s kind--not for the knowledge in thy mind.
Teetotallers lack the sympathy and generosity of men that drink.