When you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street, To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces; But stop my house's ears,--I mean my casements: Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house.
Sumner warns against the allure of war and calls for a rejection of its superficial attractions.
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Controlled by such a code, employing such representatives, sustained by such agencies, animated by such Furies, and producing such fruits of tears and bitterness, it must be open to question.
Nor should we be too impatient to witness the fulfilment of our aspirations.
It is a cause which, though long kept in check throughout our country, as also in Europe, now confronts the people and their rulers, demanding to be heard.
Still further: every ship-of-war that floats costs more than a well-endowed college.
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