What A Day It Is

A Vi'let On The Meadow Grew, That No One Saw, That No One Knew, It Was A Modest Flower. A Shepherdess Pass'd By That Way-- Light Footed, Pretty And So Gay; That Way She Came, Softly Warbling Forth Her Lay.

Poor Fool! In Whose Petty Estimation All Things Are Little.

He Is A Man Whom It Is Impossible To Please, Because He Is Never Pleased With Himself.

Nature Does Not Suffer Her Veil To Be Taken From Her, And What She Does Not Choose To Reveal To The Spirit, Thou Wilt Not Wrest From Her By Levers And Screws.

Dispel Not, The Happy Delusions Of Children.