Lines from this poem borrowed and rearranged from:

"In Memoriam A.H.H.", by

Lord Alfred Tennyson...

             ~

Oh sweet and bitter in a breath,

I bring to life, I bring to death,

By faith, and faith alone embrace,

And think, that somewhere in the waste,

Our little systems have their day,

And with my heart I muse and say,

The long result of love and boast,

I feel it when I sorrow most.

A weight of nerves without a mind,

And shall I take a thing so blind,

To look at her that loves him well,

Procuress to the Lord's of Hell.

He loves to make Parade of pain,

And passes into gloom again,

Oh somewhere, meek unconscious dove,

She enters the other realms of love.

To sleep I give my powers away,

Whatever fickle tongues may say:

We descend following hope,

I stretch lame hand of faith, and grope.

And balmy drop in summer dark,

To drink the cooler air, and mark,

And filled with tears that cannot fall,

Then never to have loved at all.

     

~Yvonne Renee Moore