Come Live In My Heart, And Pay

Reproof On Her Lip, But A Smile In Her Eye.

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.

Come Live In My Heart, And Pay No Rent.

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

When Once The Itch Of Literature Comes Over A Man, Nothing Can Cure It But The Scratching Of A Pen. But If You Have Not A Pen, I Suppose You Must Scratch Any Way You Can.