...truth. Again: "Crying to be slit with eyeholes." We think of a mid-Victorian quatrain in contrast: So runs my dream; but what am I ? An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light And with no language but a cry!" The Jeffers line is strong. The "In Memoriam" stanza is strong, with something...

...Hamlet, Act v. Sc. I. O yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill. In Memoriam. liii. But what am I ? An infant crying in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry. Ibid. liii. So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single...

...the pile complete ; That not a worm is cloven in vain ; That not a moth with vain desire Is shriveled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain....in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry. 58 The Sleep. [By ELIZABETH BAREETT BROWNIXO, born in England in 1809;...

...That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivel'd in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gaiu. Behold, we know not anything ; I can but trust that...in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry. THE wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives...

...the mere rubbish and debris of the pile, shall be wrought at last into the grand eternal structure. But what am I ? "An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry." Surely Cyril Denham and I may help each other. How beautiful a mind he...

...destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete ; That not a worm is cloven in vain ; That not a moth with vain desire...in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry. LT. THE wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave,...

...moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. "Behold I we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall...in the night: An infant crying for the light ; And with no language but a cry." But this " dream " has its nightmare. The poet is oppressed by horrible...

...a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. "Behold I we know not anything; I can but trnst that good shall fall At last, far off, at last, to...in the night: An infant crying for the light ; And with no language but A cry." But this " dream " has its nightmare. The poet is oppressed by horrible...

...drawing nothing out. We are content with holier modesty; to lay our hands upon our lips and to say : So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying...in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry. Changed modes of expression, changed points of view, which — though they...

...sympathize instinctively when we hear a soul benighted wailing in the voice of reverence and prayer : — "but what am I? An infant crying in the night ; An infant crying for the light ; And with no language but a cry." It wonderfully relieves our sympathy of its burden when berating takes...