Bald As The Bare Mountain Tops Are

Everything In Our Political Life Tends To Hide From Us That There Is Anything Wiser Than Our Ordinary Selves.

I Do Not Believe Today Everything I Believed Yesterday I Wonder Will I Believe Tomorrow Everything I Believe Today.

The Eloquent Voice Of Our Century Uttered, Shortly Before Leaving The World, A Warning Cry Against The "anglo- Saxon Contagion.

Poetry; A Criticism Of Life Under The Conditions Fixed For Such A Criticism By The Laws Of Poetic Truth And Poetic Beauty.

With Aching Hands And Bleeding Feet We Dig And Heap, Lay Stone On Stone; We Bear The Burden And The Heat Of The Long Day, And Wish 'twere Done. Not Till The Hours Of Light Return All We Have Built Do We Discern.