Here Dead We Lie
Here dead we lie
Because we did not choose
To live and shame the land
From which we sprung.
Life, to be sure,
Is nothing much to lose,
But young men think it is,
And we were young.
Language unstable as sand, but poets Strike on hard rock, carving Rune and hieroglyph , to celebrate Breath's sweet brevity.
Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.
The World Love built a stately house, where Fortune came, And spinning fancies, she was heard to say That her…