But when a snowflake, brave and meek,Lights on a rosy maiden's cheek,It starts-How warm and soft the day!'T is summer! and it melts away.

But I believe that God is overheadAnd as life is to the living, so death is to the dead.

Now the noisy winds are still April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter!... All things ready with a will, April's coming up the hill!

Ten years dropped from a man's life are no small loss ten years of manhood, of household happiness and care ten years of honest labor, of conscious enjoyment of sunshine and outdoor beauty ten years of grateful life--one day looking forward to all this the next, waking to find them passed, and a blank.

Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be.

Luxuries unfit us for returning to hardships easily endured before.