He Is Dead Already Who Doth Not

Is Life Worth Living? Yes, So Long As Spring Revives The Year, And Hails Us With The Cuckoo's Song, To Show That She Is Here.

We Are All Alike, And We Love To Keep Passion Aglow At Our Feet, Like One That Sitteth In Shade And Complacently Smiles At The Heat.

Faded Smiles Oft Linger In The Face, While Grief's First Flakes Fall Silent On The Heart!

Pale January Lay In Its Cradle Day By Day Dead Or Living, Hard To Say.

Tears Are Summer Showers To The Soul.