What Is Pink? A Rose Is Pink

My Heart Is Breaking For A Little Love

Not As She Is, But As She Fills His Dream

Can Anything Be Sadder Than Work Left Unfinished? Yes, Work Never Begun.

Spring Bursts Today, For Love Is Risen And All The Earth's At Play.

Gone Were But The Winter, Come Were But The Spring, I Would Go To A Covert Where The Birds Sing; Where In The Whitethorn Singeth A Thrush, And A Robin Sings In The Holly-bush. Full Of Fresh Scents Are The Budding Boughs Arching High Over A Cool Green House: Full Of Sweet Scents, And Whispering Air Which Sayeth Softly: We Spread No Snare; Here Dwell In Safety, Here Dwell Alone, With A Clear Stream And A Mossy Stone. Here The Sun Shineth Most Shadily; Here Is Heard An Echo Of The Far Sea, Though Far Off It Be.