Even With One Companion Ecstasy Is Almost

That Piecemeal Peace Is Poor Peace. What Pure Peace Allows Alarms Of Wars, The Daunting Wars, The Death Of It?

Religion, You Know, Enters Very Deep; In Reality It Is The Deepest Impression I Have In Speaking To People, That They Are Or That They Are Not Of My Religion.

The World Is Charged With The Grandeur Of God. It Will Flame Out Like Shining From Shook Foil? Generations Have Trod, Have Trod, Have Trod; And All Is Seared With Trade; Bleared, Smeared With Toil; And Wearsman'ssmudgeand Sharesman'ssmell: Thesoil Is Bare Now, Nor Can Foot Feel, Being Shod.

I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day. What Hours, O What Black Hours We Have Spent This Night!

Do You Know, A Horrible Thing Has Happened To Me. I Have Begun To Doubt Tennyson.