My Heart Is Like A Singing Bird.

Why One Day In The Country Is Worth A Month In Town; Is Worth A Day And A Year Of The Dusty, Musty, Lag-last Fashion That Days Drone Elsewhere.

Choose Love Not In The Shallows But In The Deep.

Ah Me, But Where Are Now The Songs I Sang When Life Was Sweet Because You Call’d Them Sweet?

What Is Pink? A Rose Is Pink By The Fountain's Brink.

Love Loves For Ever, And Finds A Sort Of Joy In Pain, And Gives With Nought To Take Again, And Loves Too Well To End In Vain: Is The Gain Small Then? Love Laughs At "never", Outlives Our Life, Exceeds The Span Appointed To Mere Mortal Man: All Which Love Is And Does And Can Is All In All Then.