On Tennyson

Last night I spent about an hour memorizing the opening part of Tennyson's In Memoriam. After memorizing that, I don't believe I will have anything profound to say for a long while. This is the portion I've memorized (I don't quite remember the correct punctuation):

Strong son of God, Immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By fath, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove.

Thine are the orbs of light and shade,
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death, and lo! Thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust,
Thou madest man, he knows not why;
He thinks he was not made to die,
And thou has made him, thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou;
Our wills are ours, we know not how,
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day,
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art not just they.

We have but faith, we cannot know,
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness, let it grow!

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence, in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music, as before,

But vaster! We are fools and slight.
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear,
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me,
What seem'd my worth as I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief in one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair;
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive the wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them if they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.