The City Mouse Lives In A House,

I Wonder If The Sap Is Stirring Yet, If Wintry Birds Are Dreaming Of A Mate, If Frozen Snowdrops Feel As Yet The Sun And Crocus Fires Are Kindling One By One: Sing Robin, Sing: I Still Am Sore In Doubt Concerning Spring.

Hope Is Like A Hairball Trembling From Its Birth.

What Is Pink? A Rose Is Pink By The Fountain's Brink.

The Downhill Path Is Easy, But There's No Turning Back.

All Earth's Full Rivers Can Not Fillthe Sea That Drinking Thirsteth Still.