What A Haunting, Inescapable Riddle Life Was.

As Soon As They're Out Of Your Sight, You Are Out Of Their Mind.

Poor Tired Tim! It's Sad For Him He Lags The Long Bright Morning Through, Ever So Tired Of Nothing To Do.

Slowly, Silently, Now The Moon Walks The Night In Her Silver Shoon.

Now That Cleverness Was The Fashion Most People Were Clever - Even Perfect Fools; And Cleverness After All Was Often Only A Bore: All Head And No Body

His Are The Quiet Steeps Of Dreamland, The Waters Of No-more-pain; His Ram's Bell Rings 'neath An Arch Of Stars, "rest, Rest, And Rest Again.