IV.
O, the morn and the noon and the night, when your lips
In the sweetest of raptures brought sorrow's eclipse!
They have died with the years on the deserts of men,
Yet your heart to my heart sings the love-songs again!
V.
And the blossoms still bloom on the beautiful way
Where the dews of the dusk kiss the rose-lips of May,
And the noon and the night from the far away shore
Sing the songs that you sang, to my heart evermore!
Caught on the Fly.
A bar-room full of laughter is more attractive than a home used for rag-chewing.
If a man stops to try on every shoe that fits him, he won't get dressed in time to build the fires in the morning.
Strength to do and to endure is the rich, ripe fruit of trial and struggle, grown only in the gardens of supreme courage.