And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's
If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable
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.
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.