Beauty Is Not The Cause Of Something,

You Are Nipping In The Bud Fancies Which I Let Blossom. The Shore Is Safer, But I Love To Buffet The Sea - I Can Count The Bitter Wrecks Here In These Pleasant Waters, And Hear The Murmuring Winds, But Oh, I Love The Danger!

Success Is Counted Sweetest / By Those Who Ne'er Succeed.

These Are The Days When Birds Come Back, A Very Few, A Bird Or Two, To Take A Backward Look.

To Venerate The Simple Days Which Lead The Seasons By, Needs But To Remember That From You Or I They May Take The Trifle Termed Mortality!

The Pleading Of The Summer - That Other Prank - Of Snow - That Cushions Mystery With Tulle, For Fear The Squirrels - Know.