Let The Long Contention Cease! / Geese

What Shelter To Grow Ripe Is Ours? What Leisure To Grow Wise?

Time, So Complain'd Of, Who To No One Man Shows Partiality, Brings Round To All Men Some Undimm'd Hours.

The Sea Of Faith Was Once, Too, At The Full, And Round Earth's Shore Lay Like The Folds Of A Bright Girdle Furled. But Now I Only Hear Its Melancholy, Long, Withdrawing Roar, Retreating, To The Breath Of The Night-wind, Down The Vast Edges Drear And Naked Shingles Of The World.

And That Sweet City With Her Dreaming Spires, She Needs Not June For Beauty's Heightening.

I Do Not Believe Today Everything I Believed Yesterday I Wonder Will I Believe Tomorrow Everything I Believe Today.