The circumambient gloom But hides, if Gods, Gods careless of our doom. - <i>Mycerinus</i> - Matthew Arnold

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.

And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.