There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.
Ancient of days! august Athena! where, Where are thy men of might? thy grand in soul? Gone--glimmering through the dream of things that were; First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and pass'd away--Is this the whole?
Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! Ye happy mixture of more happy days!
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!