The edge of the green wave whitely doth hiss/ Upon the wetted sand. I look, yet dream./ Surely reality cannot be this!/ Somehow, somewhere this surely doth but seem!/ The sky, the sea, this great ext...
Whether we write or speak or do but look/ We are ever unapparent. What we are/ Cannot be transfused into word or book./ Our soul from us is infinitely far./ However much we give our thoughts the will...
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human