Some shall reap that never sow; And some shall toil and not attain. - Madison Cawein

Old homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever
Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter.

When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock,
And the brown bee drones i' the rose,
And the west is a red-streaked four-o'-clock
And summer is near its close—
It's—Oh for the gate and the lotus lane
And dusk and dew and home again!

I am a part of all you see
In Nature; part of all you feel:
I am the impact of the bee
Upon the blossom; in the tree
I am the sap,—that shall reveal
The leaf, the bloom,—that flows and flutes
Up from the darkness through its roots.