The Land Is Dearer For The Sea,

The Whole World Of Thought Lay Unexplored Before Me, - A World Of Which I Had Already Caught Large And Tempting Glimpses.

These Blossoms, Gathered In Familiar Paths, With Dear Companions Now Passed Out Of Sight, Shall Not Be Laid Upon Their Graves. They Live, Since Love Is Deathless. Pleasure Now Nor Pride Is Theirs In Mortal Wise, But Hallowing Thoughts Will Meet The Offering, Of So Little Worth, Wanting The Benison Death Has Made Divine.

I Don't Own An Inch Of Land, But All I See Is Mine.

My 'must-have' Was Poetry. From The First, Life Meant That To Me. And, Fortunately, Poetry Is Not Purchasable Material, But An Atmosphere In Which Every Life May Expand. I Found It Everywhere About Me.

Like A Plant That Starts Up In Showers And Sunshine And Does Not Know Which Has Best Helped It To Grow, It Is Difficult To Say Whether The Hard Things Or The Pleasant Things Did Me The Most Good.