I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical analysis, or a physical law

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.

I find purer philosophy in a Poem than in a Conclusion of Geometry, a chemical analysis, or a physical law

Numbers of the old people cannot read. Those who can seldom do

Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, Even with truths that lie too deep for taint. I would have poured my spirit without stint But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.

The war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.