In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 124

That which we dare invoke to bless;
         Our dearest faith; our ghastliest doubt;
         He, They, One, All; within, without;
The Power in darkness whom we guess;

I found Him not in world or sun,
         Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye;
         Nor thro' the questions men may try,
The petty cobwebs we have spun:

If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep,
         I heard a voice, "Believe no more,"
         And heard an ever-breaking shore
That tumbled in the Godless deep,

A warmth within the breast would melt
         The freezing reason's colder part,
         And like a man in wrath the heart
Stood up and answer'd, "I have felt."

No, like a child in doubt and fear:
         But that blind clamour made me wise;
         Then was I as a child that cries,
But crying, knows his father near;

And what I am beheld again
         What is, and no man understands;
         And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro' nature, moulding men.


More Poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson