Let My Soul, A Shining

I Believe That The Purpose For Which I And My Fellow Soldiers Entered Upon This War Should Have Been So Clearly Stated As To Have Made It Impossible To Change Them, And That, Had This Been Done, The Objects Which Actuated Us Would Now Be Attainable By Negotiation.

I Am A Soldier, Convinced That I Am Acting On Behalf Of Soldiers.

Who's This—alone With Stone And Sky? It's Only My Old Dog And I— It's Only Him; It's Only Me; Alone With Stone And Grass And Tree. What Share We Most—we Two Together? Smells, And Awareness Of The Weather. What Is It Makes Us More Than Dust? My Trust In Him; In Me His Trust.

I Didn't Want To Die - Not Before I'd Finished Reading The Return Of The Native Anyhow.

How Innocent Were These Trees, That In Mist-green May, Blown By A Prospering Breeze, Stood Garlanded And Gay; Who Now In Sundown Glow Of Serious Colour Clad Confront Me With Their Show As Though Resigned And Sad, Trees, Who Unwhispering Stand Umber, Bronze, Gold; Pavilioning The Land For One Grown Tired And Old; Elm, Chestnut, Aspen And Pine, I Am Merged In You, Who Tell Once More In Tones Of Time, Your Foliaged Farewell.