Between the fountain and the rill <br />I passed, and saw the mighty will <br />To leap at sky; the careless run, <br />As earth would lead her little son. <br /> <br />Beneath them throbs an urgent well, <br />That here is play, and there is war. <br />I know not which had most to tell <br />Of whence we spring and what we are.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alternation/
