There Seems A Life In Hair, Though

Where The Mouth Is Sweet And The Eyes Intelligent, There Is Always The Look Of Beauty, With A Right Heart.

We Are Violets Blue, For Our Sweetness Found Careless In The Mossy Shades, Looking On The Ground. Love's Dropp'd Eyelids And A Kiss,-- Such Our Breath And Blueness Is.

It Is A Delicious Moment, Certainly, That Of Being Well Nestled In Bed, And Feeling That You Shall Drop Gently To Sleep. The Good Is To Come, Not Past; The Limbs Have Just Been Tired Enough To Render The Remaining In One Posture Delightful; The Labour Of The Day Is Gone

Christmas Is The Glorious Time Of Great Too-much.

There Is No Greater Mistake In The World Than The Looking Upon Every Sort Of Nonsense As Want Of Sense.