Lord Alfred Tennyson

Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and read more

Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs.

The sabbaths of Eternity.
One sabbath deep and wide.

The sabbaths of Eternity.
One sabbath deep and wide.

I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men read more

I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping stones
Or their dead selves to higher things.

Seeming genial, venial fault.

Seeming genial, venial fault.

I do sing because I must,
And pipe but as the linnets sing.

I do sing because I must,
And pipe but as the linnets sing.