THE world in which we live and move 



Outlasts aversion, outlasts love, 



Outlasts each effort, interest, hope, 



Remorse, grief, joy ; and were the scope 



Of these affections wider made, 



Man still would see, and see dismay'd, 



Beyond his passion's widest range, 



Far regions of eternal change. 



Nay, and since death, which wipes out man, 



Finds him with many an unsolved plan, 



With much unknown, and much untried, 



Wonder not dead, and thirst not dried, 



Still gazing on the ever full 



Eternal mundane spectacle 



This world in which we draw our breath, 



In some sense, Fausta, outlasts death. 



MATTHEW ARNOLD, Resignation. 



