“Thy loving smile will surely hailThe love-gift of a fairy tale.”

“When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!”

“Suddenly the Professor started as if he had been electrified. "Why, I had nearly forgotten the most important part of the entertainment! The Other Professor is to recite a Tale of a Pig I mean a Pig-Tale," he corrected himself. "It has Introductory Verses at the beginning, and at the end."It can’t have Introductory Verses at the end, can it?" said Sylvie.Wait till you hear it," said the Professor: "then you will see. I’m not sure it hasn’t some in the middle, as well.”

“I love the stillness of the wood; I love the music of the rill:I love the couch in pensive moodUpon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees, The silver-crested ripples pass; and, like a mimic brook, the breezeWhispers among the grass. Here from the world I win release, Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude, Break into mar the holy peace Of this great solitude. Here may the silent tears I weepLull the vested spirit into rest, As infants sob themselves to sleep Upon a mothers breast. But when the bitter hour is gone,And the keen throbbing pangs are still, Oh, sweetest then to couch aloneUpon some silent hill!To live in joys that once have been, To put the cold world out of sight,And deck life's drear and barren sceneWith hues of rainbow-light. For what to man the gift of breath, If sorrow be his lot below; If all the day that ends in deathBe dark with clouds of woe?Shall the poor transport of an hourRepay long years of sore distress—The fragrance of a lonely flower Make glad the wilderness? Ye golden house of life's young spring, Of innocence, of love and truth!Bright, beyond all imagining, Thou fairy-dream of youth!I'd give all wealth that years have piled, The slow result of Life's decay, To be once more a little childFor one bright summer's day.”

“A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,Lingering onward dreamilyIn an evening of July —Children three that nestle near,Eager eye and willing ear,Pleased a simple tale to hear —Long has paled that sunny sky:Echoes fade and memories die:Autumn frosts have slain July.Still she haunts me, phantomwise,Alice moving under skiesNever seen by waking eyes.Children yet, the tale to hear,Eager eye and willing ear,Lovingly shall nestle near.In a Wonderland they lie,Dreaming as the days go by,Dreaming as the summers die:Ever drifting down the stream —Lingering in the golden gleam —Life, what is it but a dream?”

“Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes the world go round!”

“I have a fairy by my side Which says I must not sleep, When once in pain I loudly cried It said "You must not weep" If, full of mirth, I smile and grin, It says "You must not laugh" When once I wished to drink some gin It said "You must not quaff". When once a meal I wished to taste It said "You must not bite" When to the wars I went in haste It said "You must not fight". "What may I do?" at length I cried, Tired of the painful task. The fairy quietly replied, And said "You must not ask". Moral: "You mustn't.”