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In Memoriam
XXXIV

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

My own dim life should teach me this, 
That life shall live for evermore, 
Else earth is darkness at the core, 
And dust and ashes all that is;

This round of green, this orb of flame, 
Fantastic beauty; such as lurks 
In some wild Poet, when he works 
Without a conscience or an aim.

What then were God to such as I? 
'Twere hardly worth my while to choose 
Of things all mortal, or to use 
A tattle patience ere I die;

'Twere best at once to sink to peace, 
Like birds the charming serpent draws, 
To drop head-foremost in the jaws 
Of vacant darkness and to cease.
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