A Nameless Epitaph

A poem by Matthew Arnold

This sentence have I left behind:
An aching body, and a mind
Not wholly clear, nor wholly blind,
Too keen to rest, too weak to find,
That travails sore, and brings forth wind,
Are God’s worst portion to mankind.

Ask not my name, O friend!
That Being only, which hath known each man
From the beginning, can
Remember each unto the end

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