And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
Alfred Lord TennysonSo I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not
Alfred Lord TennysonRead my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson