“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.”

“So I be written in the Book of Love. I do not care about that Book Above. Erase my name, or write it as you will. So I be written in the Book of Love.”

“To all of us the thought of heaven is dear -Why not be sure of it and make it here?No doubt there is a heaven yonder too,But 'tis so far away - and you are near.Men talk of heaven, - there is no heaven but here;Men talk of hell, - there is no hell but here;Men of hereafters talk, and future lives,O love, there is no other life - but here.”

“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?”

“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?”

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

“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.”