Alfred Lord Tennyson
...For the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies.
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.
Ah, what shall I be at fifty,
should nature keep me alive,
if I find the world so bitter
when I am but twenty-five?
Believing where we cannot prove.
Cast all your cares on God; that anchor holds.
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