In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying.
Mellow nuts have the hardest rind.
Sleep in peace, and wake in joy.
The sickening pang of hope deferr'd.
I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away!
One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name