He Who Did Well In War Just

God Is In His Heaven, All's Right With The World.

I, Painting From Myself And To Myself, Know What I Do, Am Unmoved By Men's Blame Or Their Praise Either.

In This World, Who Can Do A Thing, Will Not; And Who Would Do It, Cannot, I Perceive: Yet The Will's Somewhat — Somewhat, Too, The Power — And Thus We Half-men Struggle.

You Call For Faith: I Show You Doubt, To Prove That Faith Exists. The More Of Doubt, The Stronger Faith, I Say, If Faith O'ercomes Doubt.

Rats They Fought The Dogs And Killed The Cats, And Bit The Babies In The Cradles, And Ate The Cheeses Out Of The Vats, And Licked The Soup From The Cook's Own Ladles. Split Open The Kegs Of Salted Sprats, Made Nests Inside Men's Sunday Hats, And Even Spoiled The Women's Chats By Drowning Their Speaking With Shrieking And Squeaking In Fifty Different Sharps And Flats.