A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling,

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

A Turn Or Two I'll Walk To Still My Beating Mind.

Heaven Take My Soul, And England Keep My Bones!

The Big Round Tears Cours'd One Another Down His Innocent Nose, In Piteous Chase.

Cowards Die Many Times; A Brave Man Dies But Once.