An Idea Comes As Near

For I Have Had Too Much Of Apple-picking:i Am Overtired Of The Great Harvest I Myself Desired.

Don't Ever Take A Fence Down Until You Know Why It Was Put Up.

But He Had Gone His Way, The Grass All Mown, And I Must Be, As He Had Been - Alone, As All Must Be, I Said Within My Heart, Whether They Work Together Or Apart.

Anything More Than The Truth Would Have Seemed Too Weak.

The Rain To The Wind Said, You Push And I'll Pelt.' They So Smote The Garden Bed That The Flowers Actually Knelt, And Lay Lodged--though Not Dead. I Know How The Flowers Felt.