In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong.

Beloved, till life can charm no more; And mourned, till Pity's self be dead.

Always mistrust a subordinate who never finds fault with his superior.

By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung.

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest!

This is our nation's capital. To have Major League Baseball return to our nation's capital has a special significance, ... There's the opportunity to own something that has been a part of the tradition and legacy of the city and the surrounding area, and now can become part of the fabric of our community.

But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I picture her,barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my windowin one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor.She will look in at me with her thin arms extended,offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.

In a while, one of us will go up to bed and the other one will follow. Then we will slip below the surface of the night into miles of water, drifting down and down to the dark, soundless bottom until the weight of dreams pulls us lower still.

In a while, one of us will go up to bedand the other one will follow.Then we will slip below the surface of the nightinto miles of water, drifting down and downto the dark, soundless bottomuntil the weight of dreams pulls us lower still.

I'm not dismayed that poetry's appeal is limited in scope. That's why we have National Poetry Month. It's a sign of its neglect, which isn't necessarily a negative thing. It's not like we have National TV Month.