In this world with starry dome,Floored with gemlike plains and seas,Shall I never feel at home,Never wholly be at ease?

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.

Braying of arrogant brass, whimper of querulous reeds.

And though circuitous and obscureThe feet of Nemesis how sure!

Threadbare his songs seem now, to lettered ken: They were worn threadbare next the hearts of men.

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.

His friends he loved. His direst earthly foe - Cats-I believe he did but feign to hate. My hand will miss the insinuated nose, Mine eyes the tail that wagged contempt at Fate.