Lord Alfred Tennyson

And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.

And oft I heard the tender dove
In firry woodlands making moan.

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

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

And statesmen at her council met
Who knew the seasons when to take
Occasion by the hand, read more

And statesmen at her council met
Who knew the seasons when to take
Occasion by the hand, and make
The bounds of freedom wider yet.

My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.

My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.

I hold it true,what'er befall;I feel it, when I sorrow most;'Tis better to have loved and lostThan never to have read more

I hold it true,what'er befall;I feel it, when I sorrow most;'Tis better to have loved and lostThan never to have loved at all. - In Memoriam.