Philippe. If, as Ten-8. A vast tract of time, here perhaps modern Westnyson recollected, section 127 was finished at a ern civilization.

 .

1 138 / ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

O loved the most, when most I feel

There is a lower and a higher; Known and unknown, human, divine;

Sweet human hand and lips and eye;

Dear heavenly friend that canst not die,

Mine, mine, forever, ever mine; Strange friend, past, present, and to be;

10 Loved deeplier, darklier understood;

Behold, I dream a dream of good,

And mingle all the world with thee.

130

Thy voice is on the rolling air

I hear thee where the waters run;

Thou standest in the rising sun,

And in the setting thou art fair. ? What art thou then? I cannot guess;

But though I seem in star and flower

To feel thee some diffusive power,

I do not therefore love thee less. My love involves the love before;

io My love is vaster passion now;

Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou,

I seem to love thee more and more. Far off thou art, but ever nigh;

I have thee still, and I rejoice;

15 I prosper, circled with thy voice;

I shall not lose thee tho' I die.

131

O living will9 that shalt endure

When all that seems shall suffer shock,

Rise in the spiritual rock,'

Flow through our deeds and make them pure, 5 That we may lift from out of dust

A voice as unto him that hears,

A cry above the conquered years

To one that with us works, and trust,

9. Tennyson later commented that he meant here drink the same spiritual drink; for they drank of the moral will of humankind. that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that 1. Christ. Cf. 1 Corinthians 10.4: 'And did all Rock was Christ.'

 .

IN MEMORIAM, EPILOGUE / 1187

With faith that comes of self-control, 10

The truths that never can be proved Until we close with all we loved, And all we flow from, soul in soul.

From Epilogue2

* * *

And rise, O moon, from yonder down, 110 Till over down and over dale All night the shining vapor sail And pass the silent-lighted town,

The white-faced halls, the glancing rills, And catch at every mountain head, 115 And o'er the friths0 that branch and spread inlets of the sea Their sleeping silver through the hills;

And touch with shade the bridal doors, With tender gloom the roof, the wall; And breaking let the splendor fall

120 To spangle all the happy shores

By which they rest, and ocean sounds, And, star and system rolling past, A soul shall draw from out the vast

And strike his being into bounds,

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