That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life shall be destroyed,
Or cast as rubbish to the void,
When God hath made the pile complete.
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.
—Alfred Tennyson.
This image does not belong to BeliJose’s Fashion Hauz.
Advertisements
