Lord Alfred Tennyson

Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and read more

Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs.

All in the wild March-morning I heard the angels call;
It was when the moon was setting, and the read more

All in the wild March-morning I heard the angels call;
It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over all;
The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll,
And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my soul.

As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.

As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.

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.

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.