When The Journey's Over/there'll Be Time Enough

White In The Moon The Long Road Lies, The Moon Stands Blank Above; White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love. Still Hangs The Hedge Without A Gust, Still, Still The Shadows Stay: My Feet Upon The Moonlit Dust Pursue The Ceaseless Way. The World Is Round, So Travellers Tell, And Straight Through Reach The Track, Trudge On, Trudge On, 'twill All Be Well, The Way Will Guide One Back. But Ere The Circle Homeward Hies Far, Far Must It Remove: White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love.

The Mortal Sickness Of A Mind Too Unhappy To Be Kind.

Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now Is Hung With Bloom Along The Bough.

And Silence Sounds No Worse Than Cheers After Earth Has Stopped The Ears.

The Average Man, If He Meddles With Criticism At All, Is A Conservative Critic.