Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.

Why one day in the country Is worth a month in town; Is worth a day and a year Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion That days drone elsewhere.

"Does the road wind up-hill all the way?" "Yes, to the very end." "Will the day's journey take the whole long day?" "From morn to night, my friend."

Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land. Better by far you should forget and smile Than you should remember and be sad.

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.

It is not the deed we do Though the deed be never so fair, But the love that the dear Lord looketh for, Hidden with lovely care In the heart of the deed so fair.

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend.

Winter is cold-hearted, Spring is yea and nay, Autumn is a weather-cock Blown every way Summer days for me When every leaf is on its tree.