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.

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.

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.

To learn from other men's mistakes to prevent your own.

To learn from other men's mistakes to prevent your own.

He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the read more

He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.