Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.

Flying is the only active profession I could ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.

Never fear: Thank Home, and Poetry, and the Force behind both.

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

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.

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.

Courage was mine, and I had mystery, Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: To miss the march of this retreating world Into vain citadels that are not walled.