Coquetry Is The Champagne Of Love.

Frost Is The Greatest Artist In Our Clime - He Paints In Nature And Describes In Rime.

I Remember, I Remember, The House Where I Was Born, The Little Window Where The Sun Came Peeping In At Morn.

Sweet Are The Little Brooks That Run O'er Pebbles Glancing In The Sun, Singing In Soothing Tones.

Alas For The Rarity Of Christian Charity Under The Sun!

The Moon, The Moon, So Silver And Cold, Her Fickle Temper Has Oft Been Told, Now Shade--now Bright And Sunny-- But Of All The Lunar Things That Change, The One That Shows Most Fickle And Strange, And Takes The Most Eccentric Range, Is The Moon--so Called--of Honey!