To Joan and Mig

It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of the roses -
We pluck'd them as we pass'd.
Thomas Hood - Time of Roses

To Arnold

You that build the shade-roof, and you that court the rays,
You that leap besprinkling the rock stream-rent;
He has been our fellow, the morning of our days;
Us he chose for housemates, and this way went.
George Meredith - Phoebus With Admetus