My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still. And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now.

To warm the frozen swamp as best it could With the slow smokeless burning of decay.

Were he not gone, The woodchuck could say whether it's like his Long sleep, as I describe its coming on, Or just some human sleep.

There was never a sound beside the wood but one, And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.

Two hands upon the breast, And labour's done; Two pale feet crossed in rest, The race is won.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. They've great big parties inside the grounds. 'I wouldn't be king for a h…

'...it is not when he is working in his office but when he is lying idly on the sand that his soul utters, 'Life is beautiful.'' (p. 2)