Emotions and Feelings

Sleep not, dream not; this bright day Will not, cannot last for aye; Bliss like thine is bought by years Dark with torment and with tears.

 

Sleep not, dream not; this bright day Will not, cannot last for aye; Bliss like thine is bought by years Dark with torment and with tears.

 

Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.

 

The worst is yet to come.

 

The days will grow to weeks, the weeks to months, The months will add themselves and make the years, The years will roll into the centuries, And mine will ever be a name of scorn.

 

Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.

 

Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.

 

Gorgonized me from head to foot, With a stony British stare.

 

Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell Rode the six hundred.

 

Someone had blundered.

 

“Forward, the Light Brigade!” Was there a man dismay’d?

 

Love is and was my lord and king.

 

He seems so near, and yet so far.

 

O Sorrow, wilt Thou live with me No casual mistress, but a wife.

 

O Sorrow, wilt Thou live with me No casual mistress, but a wife.

 

So many worlds, so much to do, So little done, such things to be.

 

But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.

 

Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill.

 

How fares it with the happy dead?

 

Be near me when my light is low.

 

Be near me when my light is low.

 

’Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all. 3

 

But, for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics numbing pain.

 

I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within.