It’s the month of April. Daylight gradually dwarfs darkness. The warmth begins to show.
Happy the man,and happy he alone, He,who can call today his own; He who,secure within,can say, Tomorrow do thy worst,for I have lived today.
Happy the man,and happy he alone, He,who can call today his own; He who,secure within,can say, Tomorrow do thy worst,for I have lived today.