I Covet Honour In The

Far Away, Where The Swallows Take Refuge In Winter, Lived A King Who Had Eleven Sons And One Daughter, Elise. The Eleven Brothers--they Were All Princes--used To Go To School With Stars On Their Breasts And Swords At Their Sides. They Wrote Upon Golden Slates With Diamond Pencils, And Could Read Just As Well Without A Book As With One, So There Was No Mistake About Their Being Princes. Their Sister Elise Sat Upon A Little Footstool Of Looking-glass, And She Has A Picture-book Which Had Cost The Half Of A Kingdom. Oh, These Children Were Very Happy; But It Was Not To Last Thus Forever.

I Would Give Gladly All The Hundreds Of Years That I Have To Live, To Be A Human Being Only For One Day, And To Have The Hope Of Knowing The Happiness Of That Glorious World Above The Stars.

Human Beings, On The Contrary, Have A Soul Which Lives Forever, Lives After The Body Has Been Turned To Dust. It Rises Up Through The Clear, Pure Air Beyond The Glittering Stars.

Life Is Like A Beautiful Melody, Only The Lyrics Are Messed Up.

There Was Once A Bundle Of Matches, And They Were Frightfully Proud Because Of Their High Origin. Their Family Tree, That Is To Say The Great Pine Tree Of Which They Were Each A Little Splinter, Had Been The Giant Of The Forest.