Lord Alfred Tennyson

Give place to your superiors.

Give place to your superiors.

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at read more

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear.

The time draws near the birth of Christ:
The moon is hid; the night is still;
The read more

The time draws near the birth of Christ:
The moon is hid; the night is still;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.

And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.

And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.

The quarrels of lovers lead but to the renewal of love.

The quarrels of lovers lead but to the renewal of love.