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.

The net is not spread for the hawk or the kite.

The net is not spread for the hawk or the kite.

I give not gold for mere expectations.

I give not gold for mere expectations.

Strong of his hands, and strong on his legs, but still of his
tongue.

Strong of his hands, and strong on his legs, but still of his
tongue.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
read more

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices.