Happiness Is But A Mere Episode In

Weathers This Is The Weather The Cuckoo Likes, And So Do I; When Showers Betumble The Chestnut Spikes, And Nestlings Fly; And The Little Brown Nightingale Bills His Best, And They Sit Outside At 'the Traveller's Rest,' And Maids Come Forth Sprig-muslin Drest, And Citizens Dream Of The South And West, And So Do I. This Is The Weather The Shepherd Shuns, And So Do I; When Beeches Drip In Browns And Duns, And Thresh And Ply; And Hill-hid Tides Throb, Throe On Throe, And Meadow Rivulets Overflow, And Drops On Gate Bars Hang In A Row, And Rooks In Families Homeward Go, And So Do I.

Everybody Must Be Managed. Queens Must Be Managed. Kings Must Be Managed, For Men Want Managing Almost As Much As Women, And That's Saying A Good Deal.

I. At Tea The Kettle Descants In A Cosy Drone, And The Young Wife Looks In Her Husband's Face, And Then In Her Guest's, And Shows In Her Own Her Sense That She Fills An Envied Place; And The Visiting Lady Is All Abloom, And Says There Was Never So Sweet A Room. And The Happy Young Housewife Does Not Know That The Woman Beside Her Was His First Choice, Till The Fates Ordained It Could Not Be So.... Betraying Nothing In Look Or Voice The Guest Sits Smiling And Sips Her Tea, And He Throws Her A Stray Glance Yearningly.

...he Seemed To Approach The Grave As An Hyperbolic Curve Approaches A Line, Less Directly As He Got Nearer, Till It Was Doubtful If He Would Ever Reach It At All.

Everybody Is So Talented Nowadays That The Only People I Care To Honor As Deserving Real Distinction Are Those Who Remain In Obscurity.