Alfred Tennyson

“ Of a life without sun, without health, without hope, without any delight
In anything here upon earth? hut ah God, that night, that night
When the rolling eyes of the light-house there on the fatal neck
Of land running out into rock — they had saved many hundreds from wreck —
Glared on our way toward death, I remember I thought as we past
Does it matter how many they saved? we are all of us wreck'd at last —
"Do you fear," and there came thro' the roar of the breaker a whisper, a breath,
"Fear? am I not with you? I am frighted at life, not death." ”

“ Pity for all that aches in the grasp of an idiot power,
And pity for our own selves on an earth that bore not a flower;
Pity for all that suffers on land or in air or the deep,
And pity for our own selves till we long'd for eternal sleep. ”

“ The guess of a worm in the dust and the shadow of its desire —
Of a worm as it writhes in a world of the weak trodden down by the strong,
Of a dying worm in a world, all massacre, murder, and wrong. ”