It keeps its eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell of
Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often 'tis is such gentle temper found,
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from whence is sometime fell.
When last the winds of heaven were unbound.
O ye! who whave your eyeballs vexed and tired,
Feast them upon the wideness of the sea;
O ye whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody ---
Sit ye near some old Cavern's Mouth and brood,
Until ye start, as if the sea nymphs quired!
( TFD is sporting this season's finest necropants, Thu 14 Jun 2012, 17:46, archived)

There rolls the deep where grew the tree;
O Earth! what changes hast thou seen?
There where the long street roars
Hath been the stillness of the central Sea.

The hills are shadows, and they flow
From form to form, and nothing stands
They melt like mist, the solid lands
Like clouds, they shape themselves and go.
( Mr. Tea 'ulmmm'/'mmneurgh', Thu 14 Jun 2012, 17:59, archived)

That's a bit good.
What is it?
( TFD is sporting this season's finest necropants, Thu 14 Jun 2012, 18:01, archived)

Tennyson, 'In Memorian A.H.H.'. It's maaassive, fraid I don't know any of the rest of it.
Where's yours from?

YES I AM TALKING TO A GIRL ON THE INTERNET ABOUT POETRY, DEAL WITH IT LOSERS.
( Mr. Tea 'ulmmm'/'mmneurgh', Thu 14 Jun 2012, 18:05, archived)