All I Ask Is A Tall Ship

It May Be That We Cease; We Cannot Tell. Even If We Cease, Life Is A Miracle.

State Are Not Made, Nor Patched; They Grow; Grow Slow Through Centuries Of Pain, And Grow Correctly In The Main; But Only Grow By Certain Laws, Of Certain Bits In Certain Jaws.

Life's Battle Is A Conquest For The Strong; The Meaning Shows In The Defeated Thing.

God Warms His Hands At Man's Heart When He Prays.

But He Has Gone, A Nation's Memory And Veneration, Among The Radiant, Ever Venturing On, Somewhere, With Morning, As Such Spirits Will.