...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 oft', — at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream : but what am I ? An...

...we find, for example, these words : — Behold we know not anything: We can but trust that good may fall At last, far off, at last to all, And every winter change to spring. On this I will only say, that, pleasing as such a prospect would be, the hope of ultimate good for...

...Memoriam AHH Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill. 11564 In Memoriam AHH nie with no language but a cry. 1 1565 In Memoriam AHH The great world's altar-stairs That slope through...

...And gather dust and chaff and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope. Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that...at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. Whitman wrote in leaves of Grass': What ever else withheld, withhold not from us Belief in plan of...

...them ... to lighten the darkness, to fence off the beckoning hole. 'So runs my dream,' said Tennyson: 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.22 Pascal's own sad reflection on his plight is itself recognisable at another...

...am, therefore, always prepared to find myself mistaken, even when 1 am surest about a thing — for "What am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry!" In practice, too, she frequently, albeit unconsciously, diverged from...

...where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of love is — Hell. Clive Staples (CS) Lewis But what am I? / An infant crying in the night: / An infant crying for the light: / And with no language but a cry. Alfred, Lord Tennyson Jesus reveals a God who comes in search of us, a...

...Is shriveled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. Behold, we know not anything; We can but trust that good shall fall At last — far...in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry. — Alfred Tennyson, "Oh Yet We Trust" Humility Pride is a constant, subtle...

...a book about his adventures. And with that thought his lips did their thin, dry dance. c JHD HUflh 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. —Alfred Tennyson, "In Memoriam AHH" heir time was up, flown by in a flurry...

...— Old proverb "When brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life." — Antisthenes "But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry." — Tennyson "As long as a child does not cry it does not matter what...