My walls outside must have some flowers,My walls within must have some books;A house that's small; a garden large,And in it leafy nooks.

I heard his library burned down and both books were destroyed - and one of them hadn't even been colored in yet.

Sing out my soul, thy songs of joy; Such as a happy bird will sing, Beneath a Rainbow's lovely arch, In early spring.

What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.

A poor life this if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.

I turned my head and saw the wind,Not far from where I stood,Dragging the corn by her golden hair,Into a dark and lonely wood.