It's In Vain To Recall The Past,

New Thoughts And Hopes Were Whirling Through My Mind, And All The Colours Of My Life Were Changing.

The Wind Is Rushing After Us, And The Clouds Are Flying After Us, And The Moon Is Plunging After Us, And The Whole Wild Night Is In Pursuit Of Us; But, So Far We Are Pursued By Nothing Else.

On Summer Evenings, When Every Flower, And Tree, And Bird, Might Have Better Addressed My Soft Young Heart, I Have In My Day Been Caught In The Palm Of A Female Hand By The Crown, Have Been Violently Scrubbed From The Neck To The Roots Of The Hair As A Purification For The Temple, And Have Then Been Carried Off Highly Charged With Saponaceous Electricity, To Be Steamed Like A Potato In The Unventilated Breath Of The Powerful Boanerges Boiler And His Congregation, Until What Small Mind I Had, Was Quite Steamed Out Of Me

Home Is A Name, A Word, It Is A Strong One; Stronger Than Magician Ever Spoke, Or Spirit Ever Answered To, In The Strongest Conjuration.

In The Moonlight Which Is Always Sad, As The Light Of The Sun Itself Is--as The Light Called Human Life Is--at Its Coming And Its Going.