IN IMMEMORIAM
Reading edition
We seek to know, and knowing seek; We seek, we know, and every sense Is trembling with the great intense, And vibrating to what we speak.
We ask too much, we seek too oft; We know enough and should no more; And yet we skim through Fancy's lore, And look to earth and not aloft.
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O Sea! whose ancient ripples lie On red-ribbed sands where seaweeds shone; O moon! whose golden sickle's gone, O voices all! like you I die!
Cuthbert Bede.