Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.'
From yon blue heavens above us bent The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent. Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.