Rome Got Some Peachy Pastings When She

Don't You Think That As A People, Americans Have Less Poetry, Real Poetry, In Their Souls Than Any Other Nations?

For Man's Only Weapon Is Courage That Flinches Not From The Gates Of Hell Itself, And Against Such Not Even The Legions Of Hell Can Stand.

Coming, As I Do, From Mountain Folk On One Side And Sea Followers On The Other, There Are Few Old Songs Of The Hills Or The Sea With Which I Am Not Familiar.

The People Among Which I Lived - And Yet Live, Mainly - Made Their Living From Cotton, Wheat, Cattle, Oil, With The Usual Percentage Of Business Men And Professional Men.

What Do I Know Of Cultured Ways, The Gilt, The Craft And The Lie? I, Who Was Born In A Naked Land And Bred In The Open Sky. The Subtle Tongue, The Sophist Guile, They Fail When The Broadswords Sing; Rush In And Die, Dogs—i Was A Man Before I Was A King.