I Never Knew Any Man In My

Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black, And Lights Are Fluttering Low: Square Your Shoulders, Lift Your Pack And Leave Your Friends And Go. O Never Fear, Lads, Naught's To Dread, Look Not To Left Nor Right: In All The Endless Road You Tread There's Nothing But The Night.

I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.

With The Mistake Your Life Goes In Reverse. Now You Can See Exactly What You Did Wrong Yesterday And Wrong The Day Before And Each Mistake Leads Back To Something Worse.

While Pensive Poets Painful Vigils Keep, Sleepless Themselves, To Give Their Readers Sleep.