I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird.

And Thames and all the rivers of the kings Ran into Mississippi and were drowned. They planted England with a stubborn trust But the cleft dust was never English dust.

You can take off your hats now, gentlemen, and I think perhaps you'd better.

Our fathers and ourselves sowed dragon's teeth. Our children know and suffer the armed men.

One cannot balance tragedy in the scales Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.

When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.

Grant us brotherhood, not only for this day but for all our years - a brotherhood not of words but of acts and deeds.