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Alfred Lord Tennyson - OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
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No longer half-akin to brute, 
    For all we thought and loved and did, 
    And hoped, and suffer’d, is but seed 
Of what in them is flower and fruit; 

Whereof the man, that with me trod 
    This planet, was a noble type 
    Appearing ere the times were ripe, 
That friend of mine who lives in God, 

That God, which ever lives and loves, 
    One God, one law, one element, 
    And one far-off divine event, 
To which the whole creation moves.
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