And Wrinkles, The Damned Democrats, Won't Flatter.

A Schoolboy's Tale, The Wonder Of An Hour!

Sleep Hath Its Own World, And The Wide Realm Of Wild Reality.

No Words Suffice The Secret Soul To Show, For Truth Denies All Eloquence To Woe.

A Sleep Without Dreams, After A Rough Day Of Toil, Is What We Covet Most; And Yet How Clay Shrinks Back From More Quiescent Clay! The Very Suicide That Pays His Debt At Once Without Installments (an Old Way Of Paying Debts, Which Creditors Regret) Lets Out Impatiently His Rushing Breath, Less From Disgust Of Life Than Dread Of Death.

Earth! Render Back From Out Thy Breast A Remnant Of Our Spartan Dead! Of The Three Hundred Grant But Three, To Make A New Thermopylæ!