Lord Alfred Tennyson

Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:
The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,
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Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:
The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,
And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear.

And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far read more

And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went,
In that new world that is the old.

How much of injustice and depravity is sanctioned by custom!

How much of injustice and depravity is sanctioned by custom!

In that fierce light which beats upon a throne.

In that fierce light which beats upon a throne.