«Dying is sweet / On the battle-field / In the hissing of arrows and spears, / When the trumpet sounds / And the sun of noon / Is shining, / Dying for country's glory / And hearing around you: / "Hero, farewell!" / Dying is sweet / For an old, venerable man / In the house / On...»
«Below the sultry storm that seemed to lower, / An alien force, again I heard the call / Of my mysterious mate: the prisoned power / Of old dreams flared and flickered in its fall. And with a cry of horror and of dolor — / As of an eagle in an iron vise — / My spirit shook its cage in ...»
«With wavering feet I walked where dawn-lit mists were lying, / To find the shores of wonder and of mystery. / Dawn struggled with the final stars, frail dreams were flying, / While unto unknown gods my morning lips were crying / The prayers that my dream-imprisoned soul had whispered ...»
«Cast prostrate, in mourning, / Wingless, self-scorning, / Grief in a gust / Flings us, dust upon dust. / We desire not, we dare not, / We believe not, we care not, / No wisdom has worth. / God, do thou dower us, / Kindle, empower us, / Give of thy mirth. / From the languor that c...»