The Hues Of Bliss More Brightly Glow,

Not All That Tempts Your Wandering Eyes And Heedless Hearts, Is Lawful Prize; Nor All That Glisters Gold.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife Their Sober Wishes Never Learn'd To Stray; Along The Cool Sequester'd Vale Of Life They Kept The Noiseless Tenor Of Their Way.

We Frolic While 'tis May.

And Weep The More, Because I Weep In Vain.

Sweet Is The Breath Of Vernal Shower,/ The Bee's Collected Treasure Sweet,/ Sweet Music's Melting Fall, But Sweeter Yet/ The Still Small Voice Of Gratitude.