Come Grow Old With Me, For The

The Best Way To Hate Is The Worst. 'tis To Find What The Hated Need, Never Mind Of What Actual Worth, And Wipe That Out Of The Earth. Let Them Die Of Unsatisfied Greed.

Nature Does Not Complete Things. She Is Chaotic. Man Must Finish, And He Does So By Making A Garden And Building A Wall.

But This We Know, The Obstacle That Checked And Tripped The Body, Shot The Spirit On Further Than Target Ever Showed Or Shone.

Before Now Poetry Has Taken Notice Of Wars, And What Are Wars But Politics Transformed From Chronic To Acute And Bloody?

There Is The Fear That We Shan't Prove Worthy In The Eyes Of Someone Who Knows Us At Least As Well As We Know Ourselves. That Is The Fear Of God. And There Is The Fear Of Man -fear That Men Won't Understand Us And We Shall Be Cut Of From Them.