Stranger, pause and look; From the dust of ages Lift this little book, Turn the tattered pages, Read me, do not let me die! Search the fading letters finding Steadfast in the broken binding All that once was I!

There is no shelter in you anywhere.

I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

But you were something more than young and sweet And fair, - and the long year remembers you.

A person who publishes a book willfully appears before the populace with his pants down. If it is a good book nothing can hurt him. If it is a bad book nothing can help him.

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.