“I meant to do my work today but . . .”

“Into this life of cruel wonder sent,Without a word to tell us what it meant,Sent back again without a reason why -Birth, life, and death - 'twas all astonishment.”

“So I be written in the Book of Love,I have no care about that book above;Erase my name, or write it, as you please -So I be written in the Book of Love.”

“Were I a woman, I would all day longSing my own beauty in some holy song,Bend low before it, hushed and half afraid,And say 'I am a woman' all day long.”

“And do you think that unto such as you,A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew,God gave the Secret, and denied it me? -Well, well, what matters it! believe that too.”

“What long-dead face makes here the grass so green?On what earth-buried bosom do we lean?Ah! love, when we in turn are grass and flowers,By what kind eyes to come shall we be seen?”

“Would you seek beauty, seek it underground;Would you find strength - the strong are underground;And would you next year seek my love and me,Who knows but you must seek us - underground?”