As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
Alfred Lord TennysonI envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods.
Alfred Lord TennysonFrance had shown a light to all men, preached a Gospel, all men's good; Celtic Demos rose a Demon, shriek'd and slaked the light with blood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson