Lord Alfred Tennyson

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82. I Wage Not Any Feud With Death

I wage not any feud with Death
       For changes wrought on form and face;
       No lower life that earth’s embrace
   May breed with him, can fright my faith.
   Eternal process moving on,
       From state to state the spirit walks;
       And these are but the shatter’d stalks,
   Or ruin’d chrysalis of one.
   Nor blame I Death, because he bare
      The use of virtue out of earth:
      I know transplanted human worth
  Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.
 
  For this alone on Death I wreak
      The wrath that garners in my heart;
      He put our lives so far apart
  We cannot hear each other speak.
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