I Think it is lost.....but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost . The body sluggish, aged, cold, the ember left from earlier fires shall duly flame again.

Freedom - to walk free and own no superior.

A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms - a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork; A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk'd maize.

You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side...The Bending forward and backward of the rowers...

The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out.

The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.

I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell