And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.

You call it a near death experience, I call it a near life experience!

And she hath smiles to earth unknown-- Smiles that with motion of their own Do spread, and sink, and rise.

You have seen Sunshine and rain at once--her smiles and tears Were like, a better way: those happy smilets That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence As pearls from diamonds dropped.

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything.

My tables--meet it is I set it down That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.