And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.

WE two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making, Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching, Arm'd and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving. No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening, Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on the turf or the sea-beach dancing, Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing, Fulfilling our foray.

Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge and of the investigation of the depths of qualities and things.

A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.

Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems

I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul.

Me imperturbe, standing at ease in nature.