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The Poems and Prose Remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, with a Selection from His Letters, Ed. by His Wife
The Poems and Prose Remains of Arthur Hugh Clough with a Selection from His Letters Ed by His Wife Author:Arthur Hugh Clough General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1869 Original Publisher: Macmillan and Co. Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you c... more »an select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: ' O THOU OF LITTLE FAITH.' It may be true That while we walk the troublous tossing sea, That when we see the o'ertopping waves advance, And when we feel our feet beneath us sink, There are who walk beside us; and the cry That rises so spontaneous to the lips, The ' Help us or we perish,' is not nought, An evanescent spectrum of disease. It may be that indeed and not in fancy, A hand that is not ours upstays our steps, A voice that is not ours commands the waves; Commands the waves, and whispers in our ear, 0 thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt ? At any rate, That there are beings above us, I believe, And when we lift up holy hands of prayer, 1 will not say they will not give us aid. ' THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY: What we, when face to face we see The Father of our souls, shall be, John tells us, doth not yet appear; Ah ! did he tell what we are here ! A mind for thoughts to pass into, A heart for loves to travel through, Five senses to detect things near, Is this the whole that we are here 1 Rules baffle instincts -- instincts rules, Wise men are bad -- and good are fools, Facts evil -- wishes vain appear, We cannot go, why are we here ? O may we for assurance sake, Some arbitrary judgment take, And wilfully pronounce it clear, For this or that 'tis we are here ? Or is it right, and will it do, To pace the sad confusion through, And say : -- It doth not yet appear, What we shall be, what we are here. Ah yet, when all is thought and said, The heart still overrules the head; Still what we...« less