I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord TennysonForgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
Alfred Lord TennysonRich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
Alfred Lord TennysonI sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel For words, like nature, half reveal And half conceal the soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain A use measured language lie's The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotic's, numbing pain In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er Like coarsest clothes against the cold But large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson