But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.

And he whose soul is flat -- the sky Will cave in on him by and by.

I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind.

And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky.

My candle burns at both ends; it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - it gives a lovely light!

Euclid Alone Has Looked on Beauty Bare.

Ah, I could lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me