Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 54, by ALFRED TENNYSON



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IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 54, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Oh yet we trust that somehow good
Last Line: And with no language but a cry.
Alternate Author Name(s): Tennyson, Lord Alfred; Tennyson, 1st Baron; Tennyson Of Aldworth And Farringford, Baron
Variant Title(s): Trust
Subject(s): Faith; Hope; Religion; Worship; Belief; Creed; Optimism; Theology


O YET we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;

That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life shall be destroyed,
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.

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.




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