O Mariner-soul, Thy quest is but begun, There are new worlds Forever to be won. - Lucy Larcom

I do not own an inch of land, But all I see is mine, — The orchard and the mowing fields, The lawns and gardens fine.

Sometimes they seem like living shapes, — The people of the sky, — Guests in white raiment coming down From heaven, which is close by; I call them by familiar names, As one by one draws nigh.

I regard a love for poetry as one of the most needful and helpful elements in the life-outfit of a human being. It was the greatest of blessings to me, in the long days of toil to which I was shut in much earlier than most young girls are, that the poetry I held in my memory breathed its enchanted atmosphere through me and around me, and touched even dull drudgery with its sunshine.