The baby new to earth and sky,
; ; ; ;What time his tender palm is prest
; ; ; ;Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that this is I:
But as he grows he gathers much,
; ; ; ;And learns the use of I, and me,
; ; ; ;And finds I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch.
So rounds he to a separate mind
; ; ; From whence clear memory may begin,
; ; ; As thro’ the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.

This use may lie in blood and breath
; ; ; Which else were fruitless of their due,
; ; ; Had man to learn himself anew
Beyond the second birth of Death.



– In Memoriam A. H. H.: 45 by Lord Alfred Tennyson