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

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.

And though circuitous and obscureThe feet of Nemesis how sure!

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.

Braying of arrogant brass, whimper of querulous reeds.

Lord of the golden tongue and smiting eyes; Great out of season and untimely wise: A man whose virtue, genius, grandeur, worth, Wrought deadlier ill than ages can undo.

God, eldest of Poets.