Show A sweet laugh there Is no natural grace more be witching than a sweet laugh how much we owe to it it turns the prose of our everyday every day life into poetry and sheds showers of sunshine over our darkest paths it touches with light even our sleep which Is no moie the image of death but hemmed with dreams that are the shadows of im mortality ichen when this sweet sound comes to us in the midst of care or sorrow we turn and listen to it ring ing lug like a silver bell it seems fraught with power to scare away the evil spirits of the mind |