Would You Be A Poet

I'd Give All The Wealth That Years Have Piled, The Slow Result Of Life's Decay, To Be Once More A Little Child For One Bright Summer Day.

The Sun Was Shining On The Sea, Shining With All His Might: He Did His Very Best To Make The Billows Smooth And Bright-- And This Was Odd, Because It Was The Middle Of The Night.

Off With Their Heads!

We Haven't Any And You're Too Young.

Why, You Might Just As Well Say That, I See What I Eat, Is The Same As, I Eat What I See.