Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

Harold Monro . He is that one Desire , that life , that breath , That Soul which, with infinity of pain , Passes through revelation and through death Onward and upward to itself again . Out of the lives of heroes and their deeds , Out of the miracle of human thought, Out of the songs of singers, God proceeds ; And of the soul of them his Soul is wrought. Nothing is lost : all that is dreamed or done Passes unaltered the eternal way , Immerging in the everlasting One , Who was the dayspring and who is the day . Joscelyn . Good poet , cease , and quaff some ale with me . John . You have not said who raised me from the sod . Henry . Your speech is rank and hellish blasphemy . Caspar . Nay , nay ,- and yet it surely is not God . Andrea . It's God perchance — but of some other nation . Dives . It's nothing better than a poet 's dream . Lazarus . It is not Christ . Lazarillo . It's empty declamation . Prout . It's harmless fustian – ' tis how matters seem . 145