She Danced A Jig, She Sung A

Fairies, Arouse! Mix With Your Song Harplet And Pipe, Thrilling And Clear, Swarm On The Boughs! Chant In A Throng! Morning Is Ripe, Waiting To Hear.

Tantarrara! The Joyous Book Of Spring Lies Open, Writ In Blossoms.

Pluck Not The Wayside Flower; It Is The Traveler's Dower.

Winds And Waters Keepa Hush More Dead Than Any Sleep.

Politeness Costs Nothing. Nothing, That Is, To Him That Shows It; But If Often Costs The World Very Dear.