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From "In Memoriam"
BY ALFRED TENNYSON
Strong Son of God! immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen Thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we can not prove!
Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest life in man and brute; Thou madest Death; and lo, Thy foot Is on the skull which Thou hast made!
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.
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.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of Thee, And Thou, O Lord, are more than they.
We have but faith: we can not know; For knowledge is of things we see; And yet we trust it comes from Thee, A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
Forgive what seemed my sin in me;
What seemed my worth since I began; For merit lives from man to man, And from man, O Lord, to Thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair. I trust he lives in Thee, and there I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries, Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth, And in Thy wisdom make me wise.
O THOU ETERNAL ONE
BY GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN
O Thou eternal One! whose presence bright
Whom none can comprehend and none explore;
In its sublime research, philosophy
May measure out the ocean-deep, may count
Thou from primeval nothingness didst call
Eternity had its foundation; all
Sprung forth from Thee,-of light, joy, harmony,
Thy word created all, and doth create;
Thy splendor fills all space with rays divine.
Thou art, and wert, and shalt be! Glorious! Great!
Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround,
Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.
A million torches lighted by Thy hand
Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,
All this magnificence in Thee is lost:
What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee? And what am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host,
Tho multiplied by myriads, and arrayed
In all the glory of sublimest thought,
Is but an atom in the balance, weighed
Naught! yet the effluence of Thy light divine,
Thou art! directing, guiding all, Thou art!
Still I am something, fashioned by Thy hand!
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
The chain of being is complete in me;
In me is matter's last gradation lost,
I can command the lightning, and am dust!