Flower in the Crannied
Wall
Alfred Lord Tennison
Flower in the crannied
wall.
I pluck you out of the
crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my
hand,
Little flower - but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in
all,
I sould know what God and man is.
What Am
I?
But what am I?
An infant crying in the
night:
An infant crying for the
light:
And with no language but a
cry*.
* To cry in
the key idea of need, prayer and having encouragement, as
it is put in a Islamic prayer that: "I have nothing but
the rich prayer".
From in
Memoriam
Alfred Lord
Tennison
Perplext in faith, but pure in
deeds,
At last he beat his
music out.
There lives more faith
in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
He
fought his doubts and gather'd
strength,
He would not make his judgment
blind,
He faced the specters of the
mind,
And
laid them; thus he came at length,
To
find a stronger faith his own,
And Power was with him in the
night,
Which makes the darkness and the
light,
And
dwells not in the light
alone.
I Love
Therefor I Am
Peter Manique
Man is
mind
Cried old
descartes
and wordsaworth
answered
Man is
heart
Down a new
road
at last we
come
our cry:
Libide
Dergo
sum.
Song
Christina
Rosseiti
When I am
dead, my dearest
Sing no
sad song for me;
Plant thou no
roses at my head,
Nor shady
cypress-tree
Be the green
grass above me
With showers
and dew drops wet;
And if thou
wilt, remember,
And if thou
wilt, forget.
I shall not
see the shadows,
I shall not
feel the rain;
I shall not
hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if
in pain:
And dreaming
through the twilight
That doth not
rise nor set,
Haply I
may remember
And haply may
forget.
