A Thirst For Gold, The Beggar's Vice,

Though I Love My Country, I Do Not Love My Countrymen.

The Sky Is Changed,-and Such A Change! O Night And Storm And Darkness! Ye Are Wondrous Strong, Yet Lovely In Your Strength, As Is The Light Of A Dark Eye In Woman! Far Along, From Peak To Peak, The Rattling Crags Among, Leaps The Live Thunder.

Grief Is Fantastical, And Loves The Dead, And The Apparel Of The Grave.

In England The Only Homage Which They Pay To Virtue - Is Hypocrisy.

I Loved My Country, And I Hated Him.