Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
X. The Pity of It
From ‘The Princess’
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)
AS thro’ the land at eve we went,
  And pluck’d the ripen’d ears,
We fell out, my wife and I,
O we fell out I know not why,
  And kiss’d again with tears.        5
And blessings on the falling out
  That all the more endears,
When we fall out with those we love
  And kiss again with tears!
For when we came where lies the child        10
  We lost in other years,
There above the little grave,
O there above the little grave,
  We kiss’d again with tears.

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