Alfred Lord Tennyson

Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.

Flower in the crannied wall,_x000D_ _x000D_ I pluck you out of the crannies,_x000D_ _x000D_ I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,_x000D_ _x000D_ Little flower-but if I could understand_x000D_ _x000D_ What you are, root and all, all in all,_x000D_ _x000D_ I should know what God and man is.

Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.

No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.

Ah, when shall all men's good _x000D_ _x000D_ Be each man's rule, and universal peace _x000D_ _x000D_ Lie like a shaft of light across the land, _x000D_ _x000D_ And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, _x000D_ _x000D_ Thro' all the circle of the golden year?

And on her lover's arm she leant,_x000D_ _x000D_ And round her waist she felt it fold,_x000D_ _x000D_ And far across the hills they went_x000D_ _x000D_ In that new world which is the old.

Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string?_x000D_ _x000D_ I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.

I loved you, and my love had no return,_x000D_ _x000D_ And therefore my true love has been my death.

My doom is, I love thee still._x000D_ _x000D_ Let no man dream but that I love thee still.

We love but while we may;_x000D_ _x000D_ And therefore is my love so large for thee,_x000D_ _x000D_ Seeing it is not bounded save by love.

Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls:_x000D_ _x000D_ Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.

She is coming, my own, my sweet;_x000D_ _x000D_ Were it ever so airy a tread,_x000D_ _x000D_ My heart would hear her and beat,_x000D_ _x000D_ Were it earth in an earthly bed;_x000D_ _x000D_ My dust would hear her and beat,_x000D_ _x000D_ Had I lain for a century dead;_x000D_ _x000D_ Would start and tremble under her feet,_x000D_ _x000D_ And blossom in purple and red.

Life is not as idle ore,_x000D_ _x000D_ But iron dug from central gloom,_x000D_ _x000D_ And heated hot with burning fears,_x000D_ _x000D_ And dipt in baths of hissing tears,_x000D_ _x000D_ And batter'd with the shocks of doom,_x000D_ _x000D_ To shape and use.

Red of the Dawn_x000D_ _x000D_ Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay_x000D_ _x000D_ The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?

The sin_x000D_ _x000D_ That neither God nor man can well forgive.

Be near me when my light is low... And all the wheels of being slow.

Science grows and Beauty dwindles.

Come, Time, and teach me many years,_x000D_ _x000D_ I do not suffer in dream;_x000D_ _x000D_ For now so strange do these things seem,_x000D_ _x000D_ Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.

Every moment dies a man,_x000D_ _x000D_ Every moment one is born.

Never, oh! never, nothing will die; The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone.