In Me The Tiger Sniffs The Rose.

The Fact Is That Five Years Ago I Was, As Near As Possible, A Different Person To What I Am Tonight. I, As I Am Now, Didn't Exist At All. Will The Same Thing Happen In The Next Five Years? I Hope So.

I Am Making This Statement As An Act Of Wilful Defiance Of Military Authority, Because I Believe That The War Is Being Deliberately Prolonged By Those Who Have The Power To End It. I Am A Soldier, Convinced That I Am Acting On Behalf Of Soldiers. I Believe That This War, On Which I Entered As A War Of Defence And Liberation, Has Now Become A War Of Aggression And Conquest.

Who's This—alone With Stone And Sky? It's Only My Old Dog And I— It's Only Him; It's Only Me; Alone With Stone And Grass And Tree. What Share We Most—we Two Together? Smells, And Awareness Of The Weather. What Is It Makes Us More Than Dust? My Trust In Him; In Me His Trust.

December Stillness, Teach Me Through Your Trees That Loom Along The West, One With The Land, The Veiled Evangel Of Your Mysteries. While Nightfall, Sad And Spacious, On The Down Deepens, And Dusk Embues Me Where I Stand, With Grave Diminishings Of Green And Brown, Speak, Roofless Nature, Your Instinctive Words; And Let Me Learn Your Secret From The Sky, Following A Flock Of Steadfast-journeying Birds In Lone Remote Migration Beating By. December Stillness, Crossed By Twilight Roads, Teach Me To Travel Far And Bear My Loads.

His Wet White Face And Miserable Eyesbrought Nurses To Him More Than Groans And Sighs:but Hoarse And Low And Rapid Rose And Fellhis Troubled Voice: He Did The Business Well.(first Verse Of Died Of Wounds)