I Was A Boy When I First

Strange Friend,' I Said,'here Is No Cause To Mourn.' 'none,'said The Other,'save The Undone Years, The Hopelessness.whatever Hope Is Yours Was My Life Also; I Went Hunting Wild After The Wildest Beauty In The World.

All The Poet Can Do Today Is Warn. That Is Why True Poets Must Be Truthful.

The Young Soldier It Is Not Death Without Hereafter To One In Dearth Of Life And Its Laughter, Nor The Sweet Murder Dealt Slow And Even Unto The Martyr Smiling At Heaven: It Is The Smile Faint As A (waning) Myth, Faint, And Exceeding Small On A Boy's Murdered Mouth.

When I Begin To Eliminate From The List All Those Professions Which Are Impossible From A Financial Point Of View And Then Those Which I Feel Disinclined To-it Leaves Nothing

For By My Glee Might Many Men Have Laughed, And Of My Weeping May Something Have Been Left, Which Must Die Now.