The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.

The whole purpose of the universe is unerringly aimed at one thing - you.

O America! Because you build for mankind I build for you.

Through the ample open door of the peaceful country barn, A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding; And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.

I keep thinking about you every few minutes all day.

Every hour of every day is an unspeakably perfect miracle.

Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty, The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes, The gentle soft-born measureless light, The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon, The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars, Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.