Many A Poem Is Marred By A

The Lowest Ebb Is The Turn Of The Tide.

For In The Night, Unseen, A Single Warrior, In Sombre Harness Mailed, Dreaded Of Man, And Surnamed The Destroyer, The Rampart Wall Has Scaled. He Passed Into The Chamber Of The Sleeper, The Dark And Silent Room, And As He Entered, Darker Grew, And Deeper, The Silence And The Gloom.

Defeat May Be Victory In Disguise.

All Are Architects Of Fate, Working In These Walls Of Time; Some With Massive Deeds And Great, Some With Ornaments Of Rhyme.

The Young May Die, But The Old Must!