Who can fancy warless men? Warless? War will die out late then. Will it ever? late or soon? Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world… - Alfred Tennyson

We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
“Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world Like one great garden show'd, And thro' the wreaths of floating dark up-curl'd, Rare sunrise flow'd And Freedom rear'd in that august sunrise Her beautiful bold brow, When rites and forms before his burning eyes Melted like snow.

You that woo the Voices—tell them "Old Experience is a fool"; Teach your flattered kings that only those who can not read can rule.