Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

The future is no more uncertain than the present.

Oh while I live, to be the ruler of life, not a slave, to meet life as a powerful conqueror, and nothing exterior to me will ever take command of me.

And I will show that there is no imperfection in the present, and can be none in the future, And I will show that whatever happens to anybody it may be turn'd to beautiful results, And I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death, And I will thread a thread through my poems that time and events are compact, And that all the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.

Re-examine all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem.

And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.