“I saw and heard, and knew at lastThe How and Why of all things, past,and present, and forevermore.”

“How first you knew me in a book I wrote,How first you loved me for a written line”

“Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would noteIn me a beauty that was never mine,How first you knew me in a book I wrote,How first you loved me for a written line....”

“And all at once the heavy nightFell from my eyes and I could see, --A drenched and dripping apple-tree,A last long line of silver rain,A sky grown clear and blue again.And as I looked a quickening gustOf wind blew up to me and thrustInto my face a miracleOf orchard-breath, and with the smell, --I know not how such things can be! --I breathed my soul back into me.Ah! Up then from the ground sprang IAnd hailed the earth with such a cryAs is not heard save from a manWho has been dead, and lives again.About the trees my arms I wound;Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;I raised my quivering arms on high;I laughed and laughed into the sky”

“So up I got in anger,And took a book I had,And put a ribbon on my hairTo please a passing lad.And, "One thing there's no getting by --I've been a wicked girl," said I;But if I can't be sorry, why,I might as well be glad!”

“Strange how few, After all’s said and done, the things that areOf moment. Few indeed! When I can make Of ten small words a rope to hang the world! “I had you and I have you now no more.” There, there it dangles,—where’s the little truth That can for long keep footing under thatWhen its slack syllables tighten to a thought? Here, let me write it down! I wish to see Just how a thing like that will look on paper! “I had you and I have you now no more.”

“Was it for this I uttered prayers,And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,That now, domestic as a plate,I should retire at half-past eight?”