They told me you had been to her, / And mentioned me to him: / She gave me a good character, / But said I could not swim.
I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.
I can explain all the poems that were ever invented - and a good many that haven't been invented just yet.
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.