Lord Alfred Tennyson

I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men read more

I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping stones
Or their dead selves to higher things.

The far-off interest of tears.

The far-off interest of tears.

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at read more

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
Of that waste place with joy
Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
The warble was low, and full and clear.

The great world's altar stairs
That slope through darkness up to God.

The great world's altar stairs
That slope through darkness up to God.

Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel, and lower the proud.

Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel, and lower the proud.