What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?

WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES, Leisure

When I had money, money, O!

I knew no joy till I went poor;

For many a false man as a friend

Came knocking all day at my door.

Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day

And dances by false glare at night;

But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves

To spread its wings in Nature's light.

W.H. Davies Bibliography - a bibliography, including list of critical resources.