I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's

The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.

The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy's murdered mouth.

All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.

Those who, like the beasts, have no such Hope, pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of elderly.

As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare fade fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.