All A Poet Can Do Today Is

Escape? There Is One Unwatched Way: Your Eyes. O Beauty! Keep Me Good That Secret Gate.

As Bronze May Be Much Beautified By Lying In The Dark Damp Soil, So Men Who Fade In Dust Of Warfare Fade Fairer, And Sorrow Blooms Their Soul.

Ambition May Be Defined As The Willingness To Receive Any Number Of Hits On The Nose.

The Old Happiness Is Unreturning. Boy's Griefs Are Not So Grievous As Youth's Yearning. Boys Have No Sadness Sadder Than Our Hope.

I Thought Of All That Worked Dark Pits Of War, And Died Digging The Rock Where Death Reputes Peace Lies Indeed.