Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/141

 "I will go forward, sayest thou, I shall not fail to find her now. Look up, the fold is on her brow.

"If straight thy track, or if oblique, Thou know'st not. Shadows thou dost strike, Embracing cloud, Ixion-like;

"And owning but a little more Than beasts, abidest lame and poor, Calling thyself a little lower

"Than angels. Cease to wail and brawl! Why inch by inch to darkness crawl? There is one remedy for all."

"O dull, one-sided voice," said I, "Wilt thou make everything a lie, To flatter me that I may die?