What Is The Beginning? Love.

There Is No Time Like Spring When Life's Alive In Everything, Before New Nestlings Sing, Before Cleft Swallows Speed Their Journey Back Along The Trackless Track.

My Heart Is Like A Singing Bird Whose Nest Is In A Water'd Shoot; My Heart Is Like An Apple-tree Whose Boughs Are Bent With Thick-set Fruit.

Love Is Like A Rose, The Joy Of All The Earth.

In The Bleak Midwinter Frosty Wind Made Moan, Earth Stood Hard As Iron, Water Like A Stone; Snow Had Fallen, Snow On Snow, Snow On Snow, In The Bleak Midwinter, Long Ago.

Why One Day In The Country Is Worth A Month In Town; Is Worth A Day And A Year Of The Dusty, Musty, Lag-last Fashion That Days Drone Elsewhere.