Nature and Elements

The man who thinks his wife, his baby, his house, his horse, his dog, and himself severally unequalled, is almost sure to he a good-humored person, though liable to be tedious at times.

In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove;

 

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

 

I am the son of the first fish who climbed ashore but the news has not yet reached my bowels.

 

In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

 

The kids, like all kids, loved the dog [Checkers], and I just want to say this, right now, that regardless of what they say about it, we are going to keep it.

Neanderthal man listened to stories, if one may judge by the shape of his skull.

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

 

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O, well for the fisherman’s boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O, for the touch of a vanish’d hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!

 

[ Hammer, played by Groucho Marx, speaking :] I’ll meet you tonight under the moon. Oh, I can see you now, you and the moon. You wear a necktie so I’ll know you.

An attachment à la Plato for a bashful young potato, or a not too French French bean!

A cold coming we had of it,

I have often thought, says Sir Roger, it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the Middle of Winter.

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

Once more upon the waters, yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider!

The firstling of the infant year.

It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.

I am in fact a Hobbit (in all but size). I likegardens, trees, and unmechanized farmlands; I smoke a pipe, and like good plain food (unrefrigerated), but detest French cooking; I like, and even dare to wear in these dull days, ornamental waistcoats. I am fond of mushrooms (out of a field); have a very simple sense of humor (which even my appreciative critics find tiresome); I go to bed late and get up late (when possible). I do not travel much.

 

The deep

 

And the stately ships go on

 

The problem of cat versus bird is as old as time. If we attempt to resolve it by legislation whoknows but what we may be called upon to takesides as well in the age old problems of dogversus cat, bird versus bird, or even bird versusworm. In my opinion, the State of Illinoisand its local governing bodies already haveenough to do without trying to control felinedelinquency.

 

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,