A Baby Was Sleeping, Its Mother Was

There's Luck In Odd Numbers.

Come Live In My Heart, And Pay No Rent.

Where's The Snow That Fell The Year That's Fled--where's The Snow?

To Return After Long Years Of Painful Absence To Some Place Which Has Been The Scene Of Our Former Joys, And Whence The Force Of Circumstance, And Not Choice, Has Driven Us, Is Oppressive To The Heart.

Sure My Love Is All Crostlike A Bud In The Frostand There's No Use At All In My Going To Bed,for 't Is Dhrames And Not Slape That Comes Into My Head!