Our God and soldier we alike adore,
When at the brink of ruin, not before;
After deliverance read more

Our God and soldier we alike adore,
When at the brink of ruin, not before;
After deliverance both alike requited,
Our God forgotten, and our soldiers slighted.

We may with advantage forget what we know.

We may with advantage forget what we know.

But my thoughts ran a wool-gathering; and I did like the
countryman, who looked for his ass while he read more

But my thoughts ran a wool-gathering; and I did like the
countryman, who looked for his ass while he was mounted on his
back.

And have you been to Borderland?
Its country lies on either hand
Beyond the river I-forget.
read more

And have you been to Borderland?
Its country lies on either hand
Beyond the river I-forget.
One crosses by a single stone
So narrow one must pass alone,
And all about its waters fret--
The laughing river I-forget.

To the sick man the physician when he enters seems to have three
faces, those of a man, a read more

To the sick man the physician when he enters seems to have three
faces, those of a man, a devil, a god. When the physician first
comes and announces the safety of the patient, then the sick man
says: "Behold a God or a guardian angel!"
[Lat., Intrantis medici facies tres esse videntur
Aegrotanti; hominis, Daemonis, atque Dei.
Cum primum accessit medicus dixitque salutem,
En Deus aut custos angelus, aeger ait.]

All things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams.

All things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams.

The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
read more

The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
A humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet
Lest we forget,--lest we forget.

The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entomb'd in autumn lies;
The dew dries up; read more

The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entomb'd in autumn lies;
The dew dries up; the star is shot;
The flight is past--and man forgot.

We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not read more

We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.