SCRAPS FROM THE SAGES.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume 29, Issue 1513, 29 October 1898, Page 1

SCRAPS FROM THE SAGES.

(Tennyson.) 0 purblind race of miseiablc men, How many among us at this very hour Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves, By taking tine for false, or false for true; Here, thro' the feeble twilight of this world Groping, how many, until we pass and reach That other, where we see as we are seen 1 I held it truth, with hint who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stonca Of their dead selves to higher things. I hold it true, whnte'er befall; 1 feel it, when I sorrow most ; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all, Thrice blest whose liven arc faithful jr.iyers, Whose leves in higher love endure ; What souls possess themselves so pure, Or is th'.-rc blessedness like theirs 1 Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will.bc tha final goal of ill, To pangs of rature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of bloo 1; That nothing walks with ftindefß feet; That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete. And indeed He seems to me Scarce other than my king's ideal knight, ' Who reverenced his conscience as bis king; Whose glory was, redressing human wrong ; Who spake 110 s'ander, no, nor listen'd to ii ; Who loved one only and who clave to her—'