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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
“Break, Break, Break”
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)
 
BREAK, break, break,
  On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
  The thoughts that arise in me.
 
Oh, well for the fisherman’s boy,        5
  That he shouts with his sister at play!
Oh, 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:        10
But oh! 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        15
  Will never come back to me.
 
 
CONTENTS · GENERAL INDEX · SONGS & LYRICS · BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY
READER’S DIGEST · STUDENT’S COURSE · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
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