Light tomorrow with today!

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

All actual heroes are essential men, And all men possible heroes.

And yet, because I love thee, I obtain From that same love this vindicating grace, To live on still in love, and yet in vain

With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right the music of my nature.

The Holy Night We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem; The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Toward the newly Born: The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks Brought visionary looks, As yet in their astonied hearing rung The strange sweet angel-tongue: The magi of the East, in sandals worn, Knelt reverent, sweeping round, With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh, and gold These baby hands were impotent to hold: So let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state. Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!

At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.