the lights begin to twinkle from the rocks
the long day wanes
the slow moon climbs
the deep moans round with many voices
come my friends.....
'tis not the late to seek a never world
push off and sitting well on order smile
the surrounding furrows
for my purpose holds
to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
of all the western stars, until i die
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
0 comments:
Post a Comment