Be it jewel or toy, not the prize gives the joy, but the striving to win the prize.
The world is filled with folly and sin, And Love must cling, where it can, I say: For Beauty is easy enough to win; But one isn't loved every day.
Who can undo What time hath done? Who can win back the wind? Reckon lost music from a broken lute? Renew the redness of a last year's rose? Or dig the sunken sunset from the deep?
