I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’ Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!–Tennyson, Ulysses I don’t often think of… Continue reading “I am a part of all that I have met”
