He Was Bolder In The Daylight-most Men

I Only Know That It Was, And Ceased To Be; And That I Have Written, And There I Leave It.

The Meagre Lighthouse All In White, Haunting The Seaboard, As If It Were The Ghost Of An Edifice That Had Once Had Colour And Rotundity, Dripped Melancholy Tears After Its Late Buffeting By The Waves.

We Changed Again, And Yet Again, And It Was Now Too Late And Too Far To Go Back, And I Went On. And The Mists Had All Solemnly Risen Now, And The World Lay Spread Before Me.

Discipline Must Be Maintained.

There Might Be Some Credit In Being Jolly.