[but] Age, The Common Enemy Of Mankind,

The Skin Of The Coward Changes Color All The Time, He Can't Get A Grip On Himself, He Can't Sit Still, He Squats And Rocks, Shifting His Weight From Foot To Foot, His Heart Racing, Pounding Inside The Fellow's Ribs, His Teeth Chattering. He Dreads Some Grisly Death. But The Skin Of A Brave Soldier Never Blanches. He's All Control. Tense But No Great Fear.

No One Can Hurry Me Down To Hades Before My Time, But If A Man's Hour Is Come, Be He Brave Or Be He Coward, There Is No Escape For Him When He Has Once Been Born.

Men Grow Tired Of Sleep, Love, Singing And Dancing Sooner Than Of War.

Never To Be Cast Away Are The Gifts Of The Gods, Magnificent, Which They Give Of Their Own Will, No Man Could Have Them For Wanting Them.

Sweet Sleep Fell Upon His Eyelids, Unwakeful, Most Pleasant, The Nearest Like Death.