Cities and Thrones and Powers,Stand in Time's eye,Almost as long as flowers,Which daily die:But, as new buds put forthTo glad new men,Out of the spent and unconsidered Earth,The Cities rise again.

Five and twenty poniesTrotting through the dark-Brandy for the Parson,'Baccy for the Clerk.Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie -Watch the wall, my darling, while the gentlemen go by!

Of all the trees that grow so fair,Old England to adorn,Greater are none beneath the Sun,Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.

I have eaten your bread and salt.I have drunk your water and wine.The deaths ye died I have watched besideAnd the lives ye led were mine.

I have written the tale of our life For a sheltered people's mirth,In jesting guise — but ye are wise, And ye know what the jest is worth.

Call a truce, then, to our labors — let us feast with friends and neighbors,And be merry as the custom of our caste;For if “faint and forced the laughter,” and if sadness follow after,We are richer by one mocking Christmas past.

The toad beneath the harrow knowsExactly where each tooth point goes;The butterfly upon the roadPreaches contentment to that toad.

And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.

God of our fathers, known of old,Lord of our far-flung battle line,Beneath whose awful hand we holdDominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget — lest we forget!