I cannot sing the old songs, Or dream those dreams again.
I cannot sing the old songs, I sang long years ago, For heart and voice would fail me, And foolish tears would flow.
Flowers produce an effect on me which can only be produced in an equal degree by music.
What good it does one to have a hearty, uncontrollable fit of laughter.
Very few worries can stand against the influence of a good long walk ... How many petty annoyances have I thus walked away!
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