"Success is counted sweetest / By those who ne'er succeed."

"The only Balm for Woe Is Labor – and the Balm for Labor – Woe –"

"The Wind – tapped like a tired Man – And like a Host – 'Come in' I boldly answered – entered then – My Residence within –"

"To make a Prairie it takes a Clover and one Bee, And Revery. The Revery alone will do, If Bees are few."

"The Robin's my Criterion for Tune – Because I grow – where Robins do –"