I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.

And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street, And he who gives a child a home Builds palaces in Kingdom come, And she who gives a baby birth Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth.

I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth; / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.

And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.

His face was filled with broken commandments.

It is too maddening. I've got to fly off, right now, to some devilish navy yard, 3 hours in a seasick steamer, & after being heartily sick, I'll have to speak 3 times, & then be sick coming home. Still, who would not be sick for England?

Success is the brand on the brow of the man who aimed too low.