THE AIM
Let's have a tiny little bush fire.
Way down in Greenwich Village
There's something, 'twould appear,
I met him in a crowd;
As if with care 'twas weighted,
He dreaded not dark, nor the lonely road,
For the world, as he knew it, was kind.
Oliver's singing
Comes down to my study,
Roger Charles Noel Bellingham. Before Ypres, March 4th, 1915
The Perfect Playmate, whither does he stray
A wave far out upon the smiling blue,
Looks faint at first on Ocean's dimpled floor,
Men looked with horror on their darkened skies,
But Freedom called them and they laid aside
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