Lord Alfred Tennyson

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.

That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning read more

That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break.

Broad-based upon her people's will,
And compassed by the inviolate sea.

Broad-based upon her people's will,
And compassed by the inviolate sea.

And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees,
And shape the whisper read more

And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty state's decrees,
And shape the whisper of the throne.

We keep the day. With festal cheer,
With books and music, surely we
Will drink to him, read more

We keep the day. With festal cheer,
With books and music, surely we
Will drink to him, whate'er he be,
And sing the songs he loved to hear.