


Happiness By Jane Kenyon There’s just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your…
Spring By William Blake Sound the flute! Now it's mute! Birds delight, Day and night, Nightingale, In the dale, Lark in sky, - Merrily, Merrily,…
Toad By Norman MacCaig Stop looking like a purse. How could a purse squeeze under the rickety door and sit, full of satisfaction, in a man's…