O the joy of my spirit - it is uncaged - it darts like lightning!
O to be self-balanced for contingencies, to confront night, storms, hunger, ridicule, accidents, rebuffs, as the trees and animals do.
Give me the splendid, silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.
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 strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.
I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones.