senses-working-overtime:Alfred Lord TennysonAlberto Sangorski, Morte d’ArthurWhere falls not h
senses-working-overtime:Alfred Lord TennysonAlberto Sangorski, Morte d’ArthurWhere falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow’d, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crown’d with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.” So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look’d one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. -- source link
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