“A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in,A minute to smile and an hour to weep in,A pint of joy to a peck of trouble,And never a laugh but the moans come double;And that is life!A crust and a corner that love makes precious,With a smile to warm and the tears to refresh us;And joy seems sweeter when cares come after,And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter;And that is life!”

“This, this indeed is to be accursed, For if we mortals love, or if we sing, We count our joys not by what we have, But by what kept us from that perfect thing.”

“I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-When he beats his bars and would be free;It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-I know why the caged bird sings!”

“We wear the mask that grins and lies,It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—This debt we pay to human guile;With torn and bleeding hearts we smile”

“What dreams we have and how they fly Like rosy clouds across the sky; Of wealth, of fame, of sure success, Of love that comes to cheer and bless; And how they whither, how they fade, The waning wealth, the jilting jade — The fame that for a moment gleams, Then flies forever, — dreams, ah — dreams!”

“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; I look far out into the pregnant night, Where I can hear a solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing. My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing; For I would hail and check that ship of ships. I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud, My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips, And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing. O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing, O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark! Is there no hope for me? Is there no way That I may sight and check that speeding bark Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing?”

“روح روز تابستانی ونفسِ گل سرخی،تابستان اما سپری شده است وموسم گل‌ به آخر رسیده استکجا رفته‌اند؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند.خون قلب منی وجان آرامشی.قلب من امّا سرد است وجانم به سیاهی در نشسته است.کجایی تو ای یار؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند.امید سالیان منی وآفتاب برف‌های زمستانم.سال‌ها امازیر آسمانی ابر اندود به پایان رسیده است.کجا یکدیگر را باز خواهیم یافت؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند”