Since There My Past Life Lies, Why

Sorrow, The Heart Must Bear, Sits In The Home Of Each, Conspicuous There. Many A Circumstance, At Least, Touches The Very Breast. For Those Whom Any Sent Away,--he Knows: And In The Live Man's Stead, Armor And Ashes Reach The House Of Each.

And Gain Is Gain, However Small.

He Who Did Well In War Just Earns The Right, To Begin Doing Well In Peace.

Good Strong Thick Stupefying Incense-smoke!

Italy, My Italy! Queen Mary's Saying Serves For Me (when Fortune's Malice Lost Her Calais): "open My Heart, And You Will See Graved Inside Of It 'italy.'"