Even The Worst Moments And The Weariest

To Love, For Us Men, Is To Clasp One Woman With Our Arms, Feeling That She Lives And Breathes Just As We Do, Suffers As We Do, Thinks With Us, Loves With Us, And, Above All, Sins With Us.

A Surging, Seething, Murmuring Crowd Of Beings That Are Human Only In Name, For To The Eye And Ear They Seem Naught But Savage Creatures, Animated By Vile Passions And By The Lust Of Vengeance And Of Hate. The Hour, Some Little Time Before Sunset, And The Place, The West Barricade, At The Very Spot Where, A Decade Later, A Proud Tyrant Raised An Undying Monument To The Nation's Glory And His Own Vanity.

Even The Worst Moments And The Weariest Journeys Must Come To An End.

...but In Every Century, And Ever Since England Has Been What It Is, An Englishman Has Always Felt Somewhat Ashamed Of His Own Emotion And Of His Own Sympathy.

When Will You Give Up These Mad Adventures, And Leave Others To Fight Their Own Battles And To Save Their Own Lives As Best They May?' When Your Ladyship Has Ceased To Be The Most Admired Woman In Europe, Namely, When I Am In My Grave.