Walter De la Mare,
The Riddle and Other Stories — The Bird of Travel
(1923)
“ Surely it is not surrender when the wound is mortal and the enemy is—that one. But enemy! What shallow, stuffy nonsense that is! We have handed down our restless memories, the old forlorn absurdities, father to son and son again, and now I am, well, just the last echo of the refrain before the end. ”
