A Moment's Thinking Is An

There's A Double Beauty Whenever A Swan Swims On A Lake With Her Double Thereon.

My Brain Is Dull, My Sight Is Foul, I Cannot Write A Verse, Or Read-- Then, Pallas, Take Away Thine Owl, And Let Us Have A Lark Instead.

Sweet Are The Little Brooks That Run O'er Pebbles Glancing In The Sun, Singing In Soothing Tones.

Frost Is The Greatest Artist In Our Clime - He Paints In Nature And Describes In Rime.

It Was Not In The Winter Our Loving Lot Was Cast! It Was The Time Of Roses, We Plucked Them As We Passed!