And Malt Does More Than Milton Can

How Clear, How Lovely Bright, How Beautiful To Sight Those Beams Of Morning Play; How Heaven Laughs Out With Glee Where, Like A Bird Set Free, Up From The Eastern Sea Soars The Delightful Day. To-day I Shall Be Strong, No More Shall Yield To Wrong, Shall Squander Life No More; Days Lost, I Know Not How, I Shall Retrieve Them Now; Now I Shall Keep The Vow I Never Kept Before. Ensanguining The Skies How Heavily It Dies Into The West Away; Past Touch And Sight And Sound Not Further To Be Found, How Hopeless Under Ground Falls The Remorseful Day.

Clay Lies Still, But Blood's A Rover; Breath's Aware That Will Not Keep. Up, Lad: When The Journey's Over Then There'll Be Time Enough To Sleep.

Experience Has Taught Me, When I Am Shaving Of A Morning, To Keep Watch Over My Thoughts, Because, If A Line Of Poetry Strays Into My Memory, My Skin Bristles So That The Razor Ceases To Act.

With Rue My Heart Is Laden For Golden Friends I Had, For Many A Rose-lipped Maiden And Many A Lightfoot Lad.

There, Like The Wind Through Woods In Riot, Through Him The Gale Of Life Blew High; The Tree Of Man Was Never Quiet: Then 'twas The Roman, Now 'tis I.