Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall.

So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad. And, "One thing there's no getting by -- I've been a wicked girl," said I; But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad!

Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace.

Time can make soft that iron wood.

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.

That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.

And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.