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THE POET'S SIMPLE FAITH by Victor Hugo
     You say, "Where goest thou?" I cannot tell,
     And still go on. If but the way be straight,
     It cannot go amiss! before me lies
     Dawn and the Day; the Night behind me; that
     Suffices me; I break the bounds; I see,
     And nothing more; believe, and nothing less.
     My future is not one of my concerns.

     PROF. E. DOWDEN.
     I AM CONTENT.

     ("J'habite l'ombre.")

     {1855.}
           True; I dwell lone,
             Upon sea-beaten cape,
           Mere raft of stone;
             Whence all escape
     Save one who shrinks not from the gloom,
     And will not take the coward's leap i' the tomb.

           My bedroom rocks
             With breezes; quakes in storms,
           When dangling locks
             Of seaweed mock the forms
     Of straggling clouds that trail o'erhead
     Like tresses from disrupted coffin-lead.

           Upon the sky
             Crape palls are often nailed
           With stars. Mine eye
             Has scared the gull that sailed
     To blacker depths with shrillest scream,
     Still fainter, till like voices in a dream.

           My days become
             More plaintive, wan, and pale,
           While o'er the foam
             I see, borne by the gale,
     Infinity! in kindness sent—
     To find me ever saying: "I'm content!"

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