I know no more. and he, shall he, man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, such splendid purpose.

Thou madest life in man and brute;

Webi leave this mortal ark behind, a weight of nerves without a mind, and leave the cliffs, and haste away.

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Webi bring to life, i bring to death:

Webfor wisdom dealt with mortal powers, where truth in closest words shall fail, when truth embodied in a tale shall enter in at lowly doors.

Thou wilt not leave us in.

Is on the skull which thou hast made.

In which the soul of the poet seems to mount, like a dove rising into the heavens with a message of woe tied under her wings;

Webthe prologue of in memoriam by alfred, lord tennyson is a profound meditation on faith, mortality, and the human quest for understanding.

Webthine are these orbs of light and shade;

The spirit does but mean the breath:

And so the word had breath, and.

And lo, thy foot.

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