I Beg You Come Tonight And Dine

With The Tears A Land Hath Shed. Their Graves Should Ever Be Green.

Civilization Is The Lamb's Skin In Which Barbarism Masquerades.

The Laurels Of An Orator Who Is Not A Master Of Literary Art Wither Quickly.

Up From The Dark The Moon Begins To Creep; And Now A Pallid, Haggard Face Lifts She Above The Water-line: Thus From The Deep A Drowned Body Rises Solemnly.

At The Beginning Of The Twentieth Century Barbarism Can Throw Off Its Gentle Disguise, And Burn A Man At The Stake As Complacently As In The Middle Ages.