H   (Poems/Prose  @ www.HappyOtter.Com)


How shall I a habit break?
As you did that habit make.
As you gathered, you must lose;
As you yielded, no refuse.
Thread by thread the strands we twist
Till they bind us, neck and wrist.
Thread by tread the patient hand
Must untwine, ere free we stand.
As we builded, stone by stone,
We must toil, unhelped, alone,
Till the wall is overthrown.



The question, "Which is the happiest season of life," being referred to an aged man, he replied: "When spring comes, and in the soft air the buds are breaking on the trees, and they are coved with blossoms, I think, 'How beautiful is Spring!' And when the summer comes, and covers the trees with its heavy foliage, and singing birds are among the
ranches, I think, 'How beautiful is Summer!' When autumn loads them with golden fruit, and their leaves bear the gorgeous tint of frost, I think, 'How beautiful is Autumn!' And when it is sere winter, and there is neither foliage nor fruit, then I look up through the leafless branches, as I never could until now, and see the stars shine."



Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have liv'd today.

--From Dryden's Imitation of Horace


Happiness is like a crystal,
Fair and exquisite and clear,
Broken in a million pieces,
Shattered, scattered far and near.
Now and then along life's pathway,
Lo! some shining fragments fall;
But there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.

You may find a bit of beauty,
Or an honest share of wealth,
While another just beside you
Fathers honor, love or health.
Vain to choose or grasp unduly,
Broke is the perfect ball,
An there are so many pieces,
No one ever finds them all.

Yet the wise as on they journey
Treasure every fragment clear,
Fit them as they may together,
Imagining the shattered sphere,
Learning ever to be thankful,
Though their share of it is small;
For it has so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.

-- P. Leonard


The world is so full of a number of things,
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

--Robert Louis Stevenson


The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept
Were toiling upward in the night.

--Longfellow's (The Ladder of St. Augustine)


If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into its nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

--Emily Dickinson