Habbelt bi fallae-men, cuist doun, ootworn,
We flicht the warld an lat it hae its day,
An, Pautience! in anither life, we say
The warld dounthrung will be, its bairns upborne.
An winna, than, undaithly airmies scorn
The warld's puir, dauntit ootwale? Or can thay
That foondert mid the stour o bleizin day
Uphaud the ferventness o hieven's morn?
Niver! The breingin virr o life can be
Upliftit frae the muilds, but no owergane;
An him that stuid his grund in temporal wae,
Frae strenth tae strenth advancin - only he,
His saul weel-knit, his fechts won, him his lane,
Speels, an that scantlins, life's ayebidin brae.
Matthew Arnold (1822-88)
Monday, August 27, 2007
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