Music Is The Medicine Of The Breaking

Fail Not To Call To Mind, In The Course Of The Twenty-fifth Of This Month, That The Divinest Heart That Ever Walked The Earth Was Born On That Day; And Then Smile And Enjoy Yourselves For The Rest Of It; For Mirth Is Also Of Heaven's Making.

Green Little Vaulter, In The Sunny Grass, Catching Your Heart Up At The Feel Of June, Sole Noise That's Heard Amidst The Lazy Noon, When Ev'n The Bees Lag At The Summoning Brass.

The Fish Is Swift, Small-needing, Vague Yet Clear, A Cold, Sweet, Silver Life, Wrapped In Round Waves.

God Made Both Tears And Laughter, And Both For Kind Purposes; For As Laughter Enables Mirth And Surprise To Breathe Freely, So Tears Enable Sorrow To Vent Itself Patiently. Tears Hinder Sorrow From Becoming Despair And Madness.

The More Sensible A Woman Is, Supposing Her Not To Be Masculine, The More Attractive She Is In Her Proportionate Power To Entertain.