And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
-- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
-- In Memoriam, xviii, Stanza 1
The violet of his native land.
-- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
-- In Memoriam, xviii, Stanza 1
Related:
- The shadow cloak'd from head to foot.
-- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
-
In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza... - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky!
-- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
-
In Memoriam, cv, Stanza... - Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
-- Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
-
In Memoriam, xxxii, Stanza... - Oh yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill.
Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, liv, Stanza... - I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead... - Large elements in order brought,
And tracts of calm from tempest made,
And world-wide fluctuation sway'd, In vassal tides... - So many worlds, so much to do,
So little done, such things to be.
Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, lxxiii... - Whose faith has centre everywhere,
Nor cares to fix itself to form.
Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) -- In Memoriam, xxxiii... - Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart,
the kindlier hand! Ring out the darkness of the land...
