If Life Had A Second Edition, How

Love Lives With Nature, Not With Lust. Go Find Her In The Flowers.

And Fairy Month Of Waking Mirth From Whom Our Joys Ensue Thou Early Gladder Of The Earth Thrice Welcome Here Anew With Thee The Bud Unfolds To Leaves The Grass Greens On The Lea And Flowers Their Tender Boon Receives To Bloom And Smile With Thee.

This World Has Suns, But They Are Overcast;this World Has Sweets, But They're Of Ling'ring Bloom;life Still Expects, And Empty Falls At Last;warm Hope On Tiptoe Drops Into The Tomb.

Burning Hot Is The Ground, Liquid Gold Is The Air; Whoever Looks Round Sees Eternity There.

The Snow Has Left The Cottage Top; The Thatch Moss Grows In Brighter Green; And Eaves In Quick Succession Drop, Where Grinning Icicles Have Been, Pit-patting With A Pleasant Noise In Tubs Set By The Cottage Door; While Duck And Geese, With Happy Joys, Plunge In The Yard Pond Brimming Over. The Sun Peeps Through The Window Pane: Which Children Mark With Laughing Eye, And In The Wet Street Steal Again To Tell Each Other Spring Is Night.