| Samuel Waddington, comp. The Sonnets of Europe. 1888. | | | | The Struggle | | By Sully Prudhomme (18391907) |
| | Translated by Arthur OShaughnessy NIGHTLY tormented by returning doubt, | |
| I dare the Sphinx with faith and unbelief; | |
| And through lone hours when no sleep brings relief | |
| The monster rises all my hopes to flout. | |
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| In a still agony, the light blown out, | 5 |
| I wrestle with the Unknown; nor long nor brief | |
| The night appears, my narrow couch of grief | |
| Grown like the grave with Death walled round about. | |
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| Sometimes my mother, coming with her lamp, | |
| Seeing my brow as with a death-sweat damp, | 10 |
| Asks, Ah, what ails thee, child? hast thou no rest? | |
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| And then I answer, touched by her look of yearning, | |
| Holding my beating heart and forehead burning, | |
| Mother, I strove with God, and was hard prest. | | | | |
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