God, eldest of Poets.

He saw wan Woman toil with famished eyes; He saw her bound, and strove to sing her free. He saw her fall'n; and wrote "The Bridge of Sighs"; And on it crossed to immortality.

Deemest thou laborOnly is earnest?Grave is all beauty,Solemn is joy.

Personally, I do not believe that we shall have greater armaments in the future than we have had in the past. On the contrary, I believe there will be a gradual diminution in this respect.

Thou hadst, for weary feet, the gift of rest.

A dreamer of the common dreams, A fisher in familiar streams, He chased the transitory gleams That all pursue; But on his lips the eternal themes Again were new.

On from room to room I stray,Yet mine Host can ne'er espy,And I know not to this day,Whether guest or captive I.