If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.

Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?

Once more on my adventure brave and new.

At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.

Thought is the soul of act.

All poetry is putting the infinite within the finite.

Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.