Will
I. O well for him whose will is strong! He suffers, but he will not suffer long; He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong: For him nor moves the loud worlds random mock, Nor all Calamitys hugest waves confound, Who seems a promontory of rock, That, compassd round with turbulent sound, In middle ocean meets the surging shock, Tempest-buffeted, citadel-crownd. II. But ill for him who, bettering not with time, Corrupts the strength of heaven-descended Will, And ever weaker grows thro acted crime, Or seeming-genial venial fault, Recurring and suggesting still! He seems as one whose footsteps halt, Toiling in immeasurable sand, And oer a weary sultry land, Far beneath a blazing vault, Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill, The city sparkles like a grain of salt.
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"I...."
This evocative piece by Alfred Lord Tennyson, titled "Will", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...