Lord Alfred Tennyson

This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrows is remembering happier things.

This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrows is remembering happier things.

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel
force,
Something better than his dog, read more

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel
force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

The far-off interest of tears.

The far-off interest of tears.

A life of nothing's nothing worth,
From that first nothing ere his birth,
To that last nothing read more

A life of nothing's nothing worth,
From that first nothing ere his birth,
To that last nothing under earth.

But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.

But over all things brooding slept
The quiet sense of something lost.