Lowly, With A Broken Neck, The Crocus

My Religion Of Life Is Always To Be Cheerful.

Possession Without Obligation To The Object Possessed Approaches Felicity.

The Well Of True Wit Is Truth Itself.

And If I Drink Oblivion Of A Day, / So Shorten I The Stature Of My Soul.

For Singing Till His Heaven Fills, 'tis Love Of Earth That He Instills, And Ever Winging Up And Up, Our Valley Is His Golden Cup, And He The Wine Which Over Flows To Lift Us With Him As He Goes.