I will sleep no more but arise, You oceans that have been calm within me! how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.

So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road.

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.

There's no doubt that I've deserved my enemies, but I don't think I've deserved my friends.

Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last, In things best known to you, finding the best, or as good as the best, In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest; Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place-not for another hour, but this hour.

Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

For all these new and evolutionary facts, meanings, purposes, new poetic messages, new forms and expressions, are inevitable.