The Young Girl In My Story Is

The Thing One Reads And Likes, And Then Forgets, Is Of No Account. The Thing That Stays, And Haunts One, And Refuses To Be Forgotten, That Is The Sincere Thing.

Hebe's Here, May Is Here! The Air Is Fresh And Sunny; And The Miser-bees Are Busy Hoarding Golden Honey.

After A Debauch Of Thunder-shower, The Weather Takes The Pledge And Signs It With A Rainbow.

My Mind Lets Go A Thousand Things, Like Dates Of Wars And Deaths Of Kings

Shakespeare Is Forever Coming Into Our Affairs -- Putting In His Oar, So To Speak -- With Some Pat Word Or Sentence.