Yet, Behind The Night, Waits

But There's Wisdom In Women, Of More Than They Have Known, And Thoughts Go Blowing Through Them, Are Wiser Than Their Own.

I Know What Things Are Good: Friendship And Work And Conversation. These I Shall Have.

I Have Need To Busy My Heart With Quietude.

Blow Out, You Bugles, Over The Rich Dead! There's None Of These So Lonely And Poor Of Old, But, Dying, Has Made Us Rarer Gifts Than Gold.

War Knows No Power. Safe Shall Be My Going, Secretly Armed Against All Death's Endeavour; Safe Though All Safety's Lost; Safe Where Men Fall; And If These Poor Limbs Die, Safest Of All.