|Alfred Tennyson Tennyson. (18091892) (continued)|
| My own dim life should teach me this|
That life shall live for evermore.
| In Memoriam. xxxiv. Stanza 1.|
| Short swallow-flights of song, that dip|
Their wings in tears, and skim away.
| In Memoriam. xlviii. Stanza 4.|
| Hold thou the good; define it well;|
For fear divine Philosophy
Should push beyond her mark, and be
Procuress to the Lords of Hell.
| In Memoriam. liii. Stanza 4.|
| Oh yet we trust that somehow good|
Will be the final goal of ill.
| In Memoriam. liv. Stanza 1.|
| But what am I?|
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light,
And with no language but a cry.
| In Memoriam. liv. Stanza 5.|
| So careful of the type she seems,|
So careless of the single life.
| In Memoriam. lv. Stanza 2.|
| The great worlds altar-stairs,|
That slope through darkness up to God.
| In Memoriam. lv. Stanza 4.|
| Who battled for the True, the Just.|
| In Memoriam. lvi. Stanza 5.|
| And grasps the skirts of happy chance,|
And breasts the blows of circumstance.
| In Memoriam. lxiv. Stanza 2.|
| And lives to clutch the golden keys,|
To mould a mighty states decrees,
And shape the whisper of the throne.
| In Memoriam. lxiv. Stanza 3.|
| So many worlds, so much to do,|
So little done, such things to be. 1
| In Memoriam. lxxiii. Stanza 1.|
| Thy leaf has perished in the green,|
And while we breathe beneath the sun,
The world which credits what is done
Is cold to all that might have been.
| In Memoriam. lxxv. Stanza 4.|