© 2018 by Samantha Mack

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Canto XLVII




That each, who seems a separate whole,    Should move his rounds, and fusing all    The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul,


Is faith as vague as all unsweet:    Eternal form shall still divide    The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet:


And we shall sit at endless feast,    Enjoying each the other's good:    What vaster dream can hit the mood Of Love on earth? He seeks at least


Upon the last and sharpest height,    Before the spirits fade away,    Some landing-place, to clasp and say, "Farewell! We lose ourselves in light."


-Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A. H. H., Canto XLVII