Comfort And Indolence Are Cronies.

I Resolved That, Like The Sun, As Long As My Day Lasted, I Would Look On The Bright Side Of Everything.

Father Of Rosy Day, No More Thy Clouds Of Incense Rise; But Waking Flow'rs, At Morning Hours, Give Out Their Sweets To Meet Thee In The Skies.

For My Part, Getting Up Seems Not So Easy By Half As Lying.

He Lies Like A Hedgehog Rolled Up The Wrong Way, Tormenting Himself With His Prickles.

The Moon, The Moon, So Silver And Cold, Her Fickle Temper Has Oft Been Told, Now Shade--now Bright And Sunny-- But Of All The Lunar Things That Change, The One That Shows Most Fickle And Strange, And Takes The Most Eccentric Range, Is The Moon--so Called--of Honey!