I Do Love Violets; They Tell The

Delicious Tears! The Heart's Own Dew.

Though Fortune's Wheel Is Generally On The Turn, Sometimes When It Gets Into The Mud, It Sticks There.

Toil Is The Portion Of Day, As Sleep Is That Of Night; But If There Be One Hour Of The Twenty-four Which Has The Life Of Day Without Its Labor, And The Rest Of Night Without Its Slumber, It Is The Lovely And Languid Hour Of Twilight.

The Very Effort To Forget Teaches Us To Remember.

I Have No Parting Sigh To Give, So Take My Parting Smile.