Sanity -- That Is The Great Virtue

Still Bent To Make Some Port He Knows Not Where, Still Standing For Some False Impossible Shore.

Nothing Could Moderate, In The Bosom Of The Great English Middle Class, Their Passionate, Absorbing, Almost Blood-thirsty Clinging To Life.

The Eloquent Voice Of Our Century Uttered, Shortly Before Leaving The World, A Warning Cry Against The "anglo- Saxon Contagion.

Our Society Distributes Itself Into Barbarians, Philistines And Populace; And America Is Just Ourselves With The Barbarians Quite Left Out, And The Populace Nearly.

Ah! Two Desires Toss About The Poet's Feverish Blood; One Drives Him To The World Without, And One To Solitude.