She Danced A Jig, She Sung A

The Mother's Kiss Is The Sweetest Thing Ever.

Now Autumn's Fire Burns Slowly Along The Woods And Day By Day The Dead Leaves Fall And Melt.

Tantarrara! The Joyous Book Of Spring Lies Open, Writ In Blossoms.

Oh, Bring Again My Heart's Content, Thou Spirit Of The Summer-time!

I Believe In Success, And In Comfort No Less I Believe All The Rest Is But Patter.