He Is Not Dead, He Is Just

It Is No Use To Grumble And Complain; It's Just As Cheap And Easy To Rejoice; When God Sorts Out The Weather And Sends Rain - Why, Rain's My Choice.

Just A Wee Cot-the Crickets Chirr-love And The Smiling Face Of Her.

I Love The Horse From Hoof To Head. From Head To Hoof And Tail To Mane. I Love The Horse As I Have Said - From Head To Hoof And Back Again.

Somebody's Sent A Funny Little Valentine To Me. It's A Bunch Of Baby-roses In A Vase Of Filigree, And Hovering Above Them ... Is A Fairy Cupid Tangled In A Scarf Of Poetry.

As One Who Cons At Evening O'er An Album All Alone, And Muses On The Faces Of The Friends That He Has Known, So I Turn The Leaves Of Fancy, Till In Shadowy Design I Find The Smiling Features Of An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.