Frederick Tennyson

Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears read more

Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept - and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years.

Softly the loud peal dies,
In passing winds it drowns,
But breathes, like perfect joys,
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Softly the loud peal dies,
In passing winds it drowns,
But breathes, like perfect joys,
Tender tones.

What would it profit thee to be the first
Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever,
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What would it profit thee to be the first
Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever,
A thing that answers, but hath not a thought
As lasting but as senseless as a stone.