My subject is war, and the pity of war.
Do you know what would hold me together on a battlefield? The sense that I was perpetuating the language in which Keats and the rest of them wrote!
Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.
All a poet can do today is warn.
Numbers of the old people cannot read. Those who can seldom do
The old happiness is unreturning. Boy's griefs are not so grievous as youth's yearning. Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.