You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland's history in their lineaments trace; think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.

My wretched dragon is perplexed.

Words alone are certain good.

One often hears of a horse that shivers with terror, or of a dog that howls at something a mans eyes cannot see, and men who live primitive lives where instinct does the work of reason are fully conscious,of many things we cannot perceive at all. As life becomes more orderly, more deliberate, the supernatural world sinks farther away.

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics?

Our words must seem to be inevitable.