I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
Alfred Lord TennysonMy purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
Alfred Lord TennysonThe still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again, And left a want unknown before; Although the loss had brought us pain, That loss but made us love the more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson