Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well.

Thou art a female, Katydid! I know it by the trill That quivers through thy piercing notes So petulant and shrill. I think there is a knot of you Beneath the hollow tree, A knot of spinster Katydids,-- Do Katydids drink tea?

The future is no more uncertain than the present

I shall use America and democracy as convertible terms

To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

We convince by our presence.