I come from haunt of coot and her, I make s sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
More Quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson:
A simple maiden in her flower; Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms.Alfred Lord Tennyson
They praised him to his facewith their courtly foreign grace.
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Let us hob-and-nob with Death.
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High above roaring Temple-bar, And set in Heaven's third storey, I look at all things as they are, But thro' a kind of glory.
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Man dreams of fame while woman wakes to love.
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Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
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