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.
Hope is like a harebell trembling from its birth.
Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.
I dream of you to wake; would that I might Dream of you and not wake but slumber on.
Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun.
She gave up beauty in her tender youth, gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; she covered up her eyes lest they should gaze on vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
