Come Live In My Heart,

For Dhrames Always Go By Conthraries, My Dear.

Circumstances Are The Rulers Of The Weak; They Are But The Instruments Of The Wise.

What Is Wine? It Is The Grape Present In Another Form; Its Essence Is There, Though The Fruit Which Produced It Grew Thousands Of Miles Away, And Perished Years Ago. So The Object Of Many A Tender Thought May Be Spiritually Present, In Defiance Of Space - And Fond Recollections Cherished In Defiance Of Time.

Where's The Snow That Fell The Year That's Fled--where's The Snow?

A Baby Was Sleeping, Its Mother Was Weeping.