Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran, Pleasure with pain for leaven, Summer with flowers that fell, Remembrance fallen from heaven, And Madness risen from hell, Strength without hands to smite, Love that endures for a breath; Night, the shadow of light, And Life, the shadow of death.

Not with dreams, but with blood and with iron, Shall a nation be moulded at last.

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.

Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.

Thou has conquered, O pale Galilean.

The highest spiritual quality, the noblest property of mind a man can have, is this of loyalty.

On the mountains of memory by the world's wellsprings, in all man's eyes, where the light of life of him is on all past things, death only dies.