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Alfred answer Arthur beginning believe blood break breath bring brother called calm closing comes Compare cycle dark dead death deep divine doubt dream dust earth Eternal expression eyes face fact fair faith fall fancy father feel flower gives gloom grief half Hallam hand happy hear heart hills hold hope hour human idea leave light lives look Lord loss lost meaning Memoir Memoriam memory mind mood morning move Nature never night once pass past peace perfect poem poet poet's question race refers rest Ring rise round seems Shadow sing sleep song sorrow soul speak spirit spring stanza star strong suggested sweet Tennyson thee thine things thou thought thro true trust truth voice whole wild wind wish wrote
71 psl. - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
35 psl. - I SOMETIMES hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel ; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within.
115 psl. - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
116 psl. - Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite ; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good.
31 psl. - Thou seemest human and divine, The highest, holiest manhood, thou : ; Our wills are ours, we know not how; Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
31 psl. - Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was not made to die; And thou hast made him : thou art just.
71 psl. - Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last far off at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.
34 psl. - blindly run ; A web is wov'n across the sky ; From out waste places comes a cry, And murmurs from the dying sun : ' And all the phantom, Nature, stands With all the music in her tone, A hollow echo of my own, A hollow form with empty hands.
115 psl. - Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind.
70 psl. - Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete; That not a worm is cloven in vain; That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain.