When People Ask Me What On Earth

Anne Shirley. Anne With An "e.

I Wonder If It Will Be—can Be—any More Beautiful Than This,’ Murmured Anne, Looking Around Her With The Loving, Enraptured Eyes Of Those To Whom ‘home’ Must Always Be The Loveliest Spot In The World, No Matter What Fairer Lands May Lie Under Alien Stars.

It Was November--the Month Of Crimson Sunsets, Parting Birds, Deep, Sad Hymns Of The Sea, Passionate Wind-songs In The Pines. Anne Roamed Through The Pineland Alleys In The Park And, As She Said, Let That Great Sweeping Wind Blow The Fogs Out Of Her Soul.

You May Tire Of Reality But You Never Tire Of Dreams.

Twilight Drops Her Curtain Down, And Pins It With A Star.