A Lost But Happy Dream May Shed

Three Jolly Huntsmen, In Coats Of Red, Rode Their Horses Up To Bed.

When I Lie Where Shades Of Darkness Shall No More Assail Mine Eyes.

It Was A Pity Thoughts Always Ran The Easiest Way, Like Water In Old Ditches.

An Hour's Terror Is Better Than A Lifetime Of Timidity.

He Got Out Of Bed And Peeped Through The Blinds. To The East And Opposite To Him Gardens And An Apple-orchard Lay, And There In Strange Liquid Tranquility Hung The Morning Star, And Rose, Rilling Into The Dusk Of Night The First Grey Of Dawn. The Street Beneath Its Autumn Leaves Was Vacant, Charmed, Deserted.