Saturday, January 24, 2015

Break, Break, Break

The following is one of my favorite poems by Tennyson.

Break, Break, Break  
By Lord Alfred Tennyson

Break, break, break, 
On thy cold, grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that I could utter 
The thoughts that arise in me. 

O well for the fisherman's boy, 
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad, 
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

   And the stately ships go on 
  To their haven under the hill; 
         But O for the touch of a vanished hand, 
      And the sound of a voice that is still!

 Break, break, break, 
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
           But the tender grace of a day that is dead
      Will never come back to me. 

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