The Only Society I Like Is Rough

Our Breath Is Brief, And Being So Let's Make Our Heaven Here Below, And Lavish Kindness As We Go.

Be Sure Your Wisest Words Are Those You Do Not Say.

It's Easy To Fight When Everything's Right And You're Mad With The Thrill And The Glory; It's Easy To Cheer When Victory's Near, And Wallow In Fields That Are Gory. It's A Different Song When Everything's Wrong, When You're Feeling Infernally Mortal; When It's Ten Against One, And Hope There Is None, Buck Up, Little Soldier, And Chortle!

Just Draw On Your Grit; It's So Easy To Quit - It's The Keeping Your Chin Up That's Hard.

And Each Forgets, As He Strips And Runs With A Brilliant, Fitful Pace, It's The Steady, Quiet, Plodding Ones Who Win In The Lifelong Race. And Each Forgets That His Youth Has Fled, Forgets That His Prime Is Past, Till He Stands One Day, With A Hope That's Dead, In The Glare Of The Truth At Last.