Pleasure’s a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy’s a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature’s light.
What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.
Now shall I walk or shall I ride? ‘Ride,’ Pleasure said; ‘Walk,’ Joy replied.
As long as I love Beauty I am young.
But cats to me are strange, so strange I cannot sleep if one is near.
No matter where the body is, the mind is free to go elsewhere.
When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door.
And hear the pleasant cockoo, loud and long – The simple bird that thinks two notes a song.
I love thee for a heart that’s kind – not for the knowledge in thy mind.
Teetotallers lack the sympathy and generosity of men that drink.
It was the rainbow gave thee birth, and left thee all her lovely hues.
After hearing an answer, I drew in the chloroform in long breaths, thinking to assist the doctors in their work. In spite of this, I have a faint recollection of struggling with all my might against its effects, previous to losing consciousness; but I was greatly surprised on being afterwards told that I had, when in that condition, used more foul language in ten minutes delirium than had probably been used in twenty four hours by the whole population of Canada.
Cats – by day the most docile of God’s creatures, every one of them in the night enlisting under the devil’s banner – took the place by storm after the human voice had ceased.
What a pity this beautiful, green world should have become verminous with humanity.