The Very Plants Turn With A Joyful

When The Wine Goes In, Strange Things Come Out.

Spring Flies, And With It All The Train It Leads; And Flowers, In Fading, Leave Us But Their Seeds.

If We Do Not Find Anything Very Pleasant, At Least We Shall Find Something New.

On Dreary Night Let Lusty Sunshine Fall.

He That Is Overcautious Will Accomplish Little.