Sweet fire the sire of muse, my soul needs this; I want the one rapture of an inspiration. O then if in my lagging lines you miss
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What would the world be, once bereft of wet and wildness? Let them be left. O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
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Towery city and branching between towers; Cuckoo-echoing, bell-swarmed, lark-charmed, rook-racked, river-rounded.
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O if we but knew what we do when we delve or hew -- hack and rack the growing green! Since country is so tender to touch, her being so slender, that like this sleek and seeing ball but a prick will make no eye at all, where we, even where we mean to mend her we end her, when we hew or delve: after-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
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all Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.
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I think that the trivialness of life is, and personally to each one, ought to be seen to be, done away with by the Incarnation.
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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
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Up above, what wind walks! What lovely behavior of silk-sack clouds has wilder, wilful, wavier, meal-drift molded over and melted across skies!
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Robert E Lee didn't make it the first time and Jefferson Davis took the vacancy. Pershing didn't make it for two years, MacArthur couldn't get in the first year and Eisenhower took an extra year of high school to get in. Patton took three years to get in and five to get out.
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Harvard doesn't consider anyone a loss until he dies without a diploma, because they say he can always come back and finish.
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I share the ambassador's hope, ... But I don't expect to see it in my lifetime. I don' think we'll go back to Sept. 10. I think the world changed in an irrevocable way; it's unfortunate but that's what we live with.
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