“Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky And the affrighted steed ran on alone, Do not weep.War is kind.Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, Little souls who thirst for fight, These men were born to drill and die.The unexplained glory flies above them, Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom -A field where a thousand corpses lie.Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.”

“Mother, whose heart hung humble as a button the bright splendid shroud of your son,Do not weep.War is kind.”

“There were many who went in huddled procession,They knew not wither,But, at any rate, success or calamityWould attend all in equality.There was one who sought a new road,He went into direful thickets,And ultimately he died thus, alone;But they said he had courage.”

“In the DesertIn the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said, “Is it good, friend?” “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered; “But I like it “Because it is bitter, “And because it is my heart.”

“Held his heart in his hands,And ate of it.I said: "Is it good, friend?""It is bitter - bitter," he answered;"But I like itBecause it is bitter,And because it is my heart.”

“A learned man came to me once.He said, "I know the way, -- come."And I was overjoyed at this.Together we hastened.Soon, too soon, were weWhere my eyes were useless,And I knew not the ways of my feet.I clung to the hand of my friend;But at last he cried, "I am lost.”

“Tell her thisAnd more,—That the king of the seasWeeps too, old, helpless man.The bustling fatesHeap his hands with corpsesUntil he stands like a childWith surplus of toys.”