There rolls the deep

But in my spirit will I dwell,

And dream my dream, and hold it true;

For though my lips may breathe adieu,

I cannot think the thing farewell….

I found Him not in world or sun,

Or in eagle’s wing, or insect’s eye;

Nor through the questions men may try,

The petty cobwebs we have spun:…

A warmth within the breast would melt

The freezing reason’s coldest part,

And like a man in wrath the heart

Stood up and answered, ‘I have felt.’

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-92).