There is the world of ideas and there is the world of practice; the French are often for suppressing the one and the English the other; but neither i… - Matthew Arnold

For rigorous teachers seized my youth,
And purged its faith, and trimm'd its fire,
Show'd me the high, white star of Truth,
There bade me gaze, and there aspire.
Even now their whispers pierce the gloom:
What dost thou in this living tomb?

Singing, "Here came a mortal, But faithless was she: And alone dwell for ever The kings of the sea."

With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day and wish’t were done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built do we discern.