Does The Road Wind Up-hill All The

For There Is No Friend Like A Sister In Calm Or Stormy Weather; To Cheer One On The Tedious Way, To Fetch One If One Goes Astray, To Lift One If One Totters Down, To Strengthen Whilst One Stands.

O Passing Angel, Speed Me With A Song, A Melody Of Heaven To Reach My Heart And Rouse Me To The Race And Make Me Strong.

Gone Were But The Winter, Come Were But The Spring, I Would Go To A Covert Where The Birds Sing; Where In The Whitethorn Singeth A Thrush, And A Robin Sings In The Holly-bush. Full Of Fresh Scents Are The Budding Boughs Arching High Over A Cool Green House: Full Of Sweet Scents, And Whispering Air Which Sayeth Softly: We Spread No Snare; Here Dwell In Safety, Here Dwell Alone, With A Clear Stream And A Mossy Stone. Here The Sun Shineth Most Shadily; Here Is Heard An Echo Of The Far Sea, Though Far Off It Be.

Yet If You Should Forget Me For A While And Afterwards Remember, Do Not Grieve: For If The Darkness And Corruption Leave A Vestige Of The Thoughts That Once I Had, Better By Far You Should Forget And Smile Than That You Should Remember And Be Sad.

Spring Is When Life's Alive In Everything.