For By My Glee Might Many Men

I Tried To Peg Out Soldierly,--no Use! One Dies Of War Like Any Old Disease.

The Pallor Of Girls' Brows Shall Be Their Pall; Their Flowers The Tenderness Of Patient Minds, And Each Slow Dusk A Drawing-down Of Blinds.

I Was A Boy When I First Realized That The Fullest Life Liveable Was A Poet's

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

The War Affects Me Less Than It Ought. But I Can Do No Service To Anybody By Agitating For News Or Making Dole Over The Slaughter.