All Great Poets Have Been Men Of

Winning Isn't Everything, But It Beats Anything In Second Place.

The Gentle Race Of Flowers Are Lying In Their Lowly Beds.

Gently - So Have Good Men Taught - Gently, And Without Grief, The Old Shall Glide Into The New; The Eternal Flow Of Things, Like A Bright River Of The Fields Of Heaven, Shall Journey Onward In Perpetual Peace.

Ah, Never Shall The Land Forget How Gush'd The Life-blood Of The Brave, Gush'd Warm With Hope And Courage Yet, Upon The Soil They Fought To Save!

Eloquence Is The Poetry Of Prose.