Pleasure Is Oft A Visitant; But Pain

The Grandeur Of The Dooms We Have Imagined For The Mighty Dead.

Open Afresh Your Rounds Of Starry Folds, Ye Ardent Marigolds.

My Creed Is Love And You Are Its Only Tenet.

It Can Be Said Of Him, When He Departed He Took A Man's Life With Him. No Sounder Piece Of British Manhood Was Put Together In That Eighteenth Century Of Time.

The Poppies Hung Dew-dabbled On Their Stalks.