Over The River A Golden Ray Of

Unwind My Riddle.cruel As Hawks The Hours Fly;wounded Men Seldom Come Home To Die;the Hard Waves See An Arm Flung High;scorn Hits Strong Because Of A Lie;yet There Exists A Mystic Tie.unwind My Riddle.

Swift Blazing Flag Of The Regiment,eagle With Crest Of Red And Gold,these Men Were Born To Drill And Die.point For Them The Virtue Of Slaughter,make Plain To Them The Excellence Of Killingand A Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie.

I Saw A Man Pursuing The Horizon

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind. Because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Sky And The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind. Hoarse, Booming Drums Of The Regiment, Little Souls Who Thirst For Fight, These Men Were Born To Drill And Die. The Unexplained Glory Flies Above Them, Great Is The Battle-god, Great, And His Kingdom -a Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie. Do Not Weep, Babe, For War Is Kind.

There Is Nothing- No Life, No Joy, No Pain- There Is Nothing Save Opinion, And Opinion Be Damned.