Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean.

There grows No herb of help to heal a coward heart.

Who knows but on their sleep may rise Such light as never heaven let through To lighten earth from Paradise?

From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met; You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.

In the world of dreams, I have chosen my part.

The highest spiritual quality, the noblest property of mind a man can have, is this of loyalty ... a man with no loyalty in him, with no sense of love or reverence or devotion due to something outside and above his poor daily life, with its pains and pleasures, profits and losses, is as evil a case as man can be.