Over The River A Golden Ray Of

Tell Her This And More,— That The King Of The Seas Weeps Too, Old, Helpless Man. The Bustling Fates Heap His Hands With Corpses Until He Stands Like A Child With Surplus Of Toys.

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind.because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Skyand The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone,do Not Weep.war Is Kind.

A Serious Prophet Upon Predicting A Flood Should Be The First Man To Climb A Tree. This Would Demonstrate That He Was Indeed A Seer.

The Red Sun Was Pasted In The Sky Like A Wafer.

These Stupid Peasants, Who, Throughout The World, Hold Potentates On Their Thrones, Make Statesmen Illustrious, Provide Generals With Lasting Victories, All With Ignorance, Indifference, Or Half-witted Hatred, Moving The World With The Strength Of Their Arms, And Getting Their Heads Knocked Together In The Name Of God, The King, Or The Stock Exchange-immortal, Dreaming, Hopeless Asses, Who Surrender Their Reason To The Care Of A Shining Puppet, And Persuade Some Toy To Carry Their Lives In His Purse.