You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.

I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.

But the people are ungrammatical, untidy, and their sins gaunt and ill-bred.

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death. And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it.

Thunder on! Stride on! Democracy. Strike with vengeful stroke!