Lovers May Come And Go, There Was

Could Beauty Be Beaten Out, O Youth The Cities Have Sent To Strike At Each Other's Strength, It Is You Who Have Kept Her Alight.

Ah Love Is Bitter And Sweet, But Which Is More Sweet The Bitterness Or The Sweetness, None Has Spoken It.

She Did Not Look At The Daffodils. They Didn't Mean Anything. She Looked At The Daffodils. She Said, 'thank You For The Daffodils.

Love Is A Garment Riven In The Light That Rises From Parnassus, Showing The Night Is Over.

No One Knows The Colour Of A Flower Till It Is Broken.