Thy Decay's Still Impregnate With

The Truly Brave Are Soft Of Heart And Eyes, And Feel For What Their Duty Bids Them Do.

War, War Is Still The Cry,-"war Even To The Knife!"

A Quiet Conscience Makes One So Serene.

I Should, Many A Good Day, Have Blown My Brains Out, But For The Recollection That It Would Have Given Pleasure To My Mother-in-law.

Oh! Too Convincing--dangerously Dear-- In Woman's Eye The Unanswerable Tear! That Weapon Of Her Weakness She Can Wield, To Save, Subdue--at Once Her Spear And Shield.