Land Of Lost Gods And Godlike Men.

The Drying Up A Single Tear Has More, Of Honest Fame, Than Shedding Seas Of Gore.

Perhaps The Early Grave Which Men Weep Over May Be Meant To Save.

Nor All That Heralds Rake From Coffin'd Clay, Nor Florid Prose, Nor Honied Lies Of Rhyme, Can Blazon Evil Deeds, Or Consecrate A Crime.

I Doubt Sometimes Whether A Quiet And Unagitated Life Would Have Suited Me - Yet I Sometimes Long For It.

The Cold, The Changed, Perchance The Dead, Anew, The Mourn'd, The Loved, The Lost,-too Many, Yet How Few!