""Strange friend," I said, "Here is no cause to mourn." "None," said the other, "Save the undone years, The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours, Was my life also; I went hunting wild After the wildest beauty in the world, Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair, But mocks the steady running of the hour, And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here. For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping something has been left, Which must die now. I mean the truth untold, The pity of war, the pity war distilled. Now men will go content with what we spoiled. Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled. They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress, None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress. Courage was mine, and I had mystery; Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery; To miss the march of this retreating world Into vain citadels that are not walled."

"He dropped, — more sullenly than wearily, Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat, And none of us could kick him to his feet; — Just blinked at my revolver, blearily; — Didn't appear to know a war was on, Or see the blasted trench at which he stared."

"Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! — An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime... Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning."

"Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes Passed from him to the strong men that were whole."

"Bent double like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge."

"We sent him down at last, out of the way. Unwounded; — stout lad, too, before that strafe. Malingering? Stretcher-bearers winked, 'Not half!' Next day I heard the Doc.'s well-whiskied laugh: 'That scum you sent last night soon died. Hooray!'"

"Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod."

"The will for the deed."

"Within one of her."

"This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. 'My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. Yet these elegies are to this generation in no sense consolatory. They may be to the next. All a poet can do today is warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful."

"Stolen sweets are best."

"Oh, Death was never enemy of ours! We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum. No soldier's paid to kick against His powers. We laughed, — knowing that better men would come, And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags."

"Losers must have leave to speak."

"What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? — Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, — The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires."

"I 've lately had two spiders Crawling upon my startled hopes. Now though thy friendly hand has brush'd 'em from me, Yet still they crawl offensive to my eyes: I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em."

"Off with his head—; so much for Buckingham."

"And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay Gives it a sweet and wholesome odour."

"The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome Outlives in fame the pious fool that rais'd it."

"Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks, And he has chambers in King's Bench walks."

"So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her love, And thus the soldier arm'd with resolution Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer."

"With clink of hammers closing rivets up."

"Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on."

"Oh, how many torments lie in the small circle of a wedding ring!"

"Tea! Thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable liquid, thou innocent pretence for bringing the wicked of both sexes together in a morning; thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart- opening, wink-tipping cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall prostrate thus, and … adore thee."

"O say what is this thing call'd Light, Which I must ne'er enjoy"

"Old houses mended, Cost little less than new before they're ended."

"Perish that thought! No, never be it said That Fate itself could awe the soul of Richard. Hence, babbling dreams! you threaten here in vain! Conscience, avaunt! Richard ’s himself again! Hark! the shrill trumpet sounds to horse! away! My soul ’s in arms, and eager for the fray."

"This business will never hold water."

"I don't see it."

"Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy. Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy!"

"Prithee don’t screw your wit beyond the compass of good manners."

"We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman,—scorned, slighted, dismissed without a parting pang."

"Possession is eleven points in the law."

"As good be out of the world as out of the fashion."

"For hope is but the dream of those that wake."

"Who breathes must suffer, and who thinks must mourn; And he alone is bless'd who ne'er was born."

"Words are but empty thanks."

"A Rechabite poor Will must live, And drink of Adam's ale."

"Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song?"

"They never taste who always drink; They always talk who never think."

"That air and harmony of shape express, Fine by degrees, and beautifully less."

"All jargon of the schools."

"A weak invention of the enemy."

"Abra was ready ere I called her name; And though I called another, Abra came."

"Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches."

"Cured yesterday of my disease, I died last night of my physician."

"Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, And often took leave, but was loth to depart."

"His noble negligences teach What others' toils despair to reach."

"He ranged his tropes, and preached up patience; Backed his opinion with quotations."

"Soft peace she brings; wherever she arrives She builds our quiet as she forms our lives; Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even, And opens in each heart a little heaven."