If A Chap Can't Compose An Epic

Late February Days; And Now, At Last, Might You Have Thought That Winter's Woe Was Past; So Fair The Sky Was And So Soft The Air.

I Am Going Your Way, So Let Us Go Hand In Hand. You Help Me And I'll Help You. We Shall Not Be Here Very Long ... So Let Us Help One Another While We May.

Slayer Of The Winter, Art Thou Here Again? O Welcome, Thou That Bring'st The Summer Nigh! The Bitter Wind Makes Not The Victory Vain. Nor Will We Mock Thee For Thy Faint Blue Sky.

Death Have We Hated, Knowing Not What It Meant; Life We Have Loved, Through Green Leaf And Through Sere, Though Still The Less We Knew Of Its Intent.

A Good Way To Rid One's Self Of A Sense Of Discomfort Is To Do Something. That Uneasy, Dissatisfied Feeling Is Actual Force Vibrating Out Of Order; It May Be Turned To Practical Account By Giving Proper Expression To Its Creative Character.