 Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last - far off - at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream: but what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language...  Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature - Pagina 4631851Volledige weergave - Over dit boek
 | Diane Ravitch, Michael Ravitch - 2006 - 512 pagina’s
...fall At last — far off — at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. 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 Charge of the Light Brigade Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light... | |
 | Denis Gill, Niall O'Brien - 2007 - 302 pagina’s
...cries 235 A sense of diagnosis 238 The diagnostic touch 239 The last word 239 A CACOPHONY OF CRIES But what am I An infant crying in the night An infant...the light And with no language but a cry Tennyson Probably the most important, relished and long-awaited cry a child will make in his life is the first... | |
 | Cornelia D. J. Pearsall - 2008 - 408 pagina’s
...best-known stanzas, Tennyson declares a metaphoric relation between himself and a crying infant: "But what am I? / An infant crying in the night: / An infant crying for the light: / And with no language but a cry" (54.17—20). The mourning poet is not like a wordless wailing newborn,... | |
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