To us all towns are one

To us all towns are one, all men our kin.
Life's good comes not from others' gift, nor ill
Man's pains and pains' relief are from within. 
Death's no new thing; nor do our bosoms thrill
When Joyous life seems like a luscious draught. 
When grieved, we patient suffer; for, we deem
This much - praised life of ours a fragile raft 
Borne down the waters of some mountain stream

Anarchy

Ever reviled, accursed, ne'er understood,

Thou art the grisly terror of our age.

"Wreck of all order," cry the multitude,

"Art thou, and war and murder's endless rage."

O, let them cry. To them that ne'er have striven

The truth that lies behind a word to find,

To them the word's right meaning was not given.

They shall continue blind among the blind.