 | A memoir by Hallam Tennyson (1897) |  |
38
[Thy soul is like a landskip, friend]
Thy soul is like a landskip, friend,Steeple, and stream, and forest lawn,
Most delicately overdrawn
With the first twilight of the even,
Clear-edged, and showing every bend
Of each dark hill against the Heaven,
Nor wanting many a sombre mound,
Stately and mild, and all between
Valleys full of solemn sound,
And hoary holts on uplands green,
And somewhat loftier antient heights
Touch'd with Heaven's latest lights.
| A memoir by Hallam Tennyson (1897) | |