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).