Sai Arcot

Poem of the day

In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 069
 by Alfred Lord Tennyson

I dream'd there would be Spring no more,
That Nature's ancient power was lost:
The streets were black with smoke and frost,
They chatter'd trifles at the door:

I wander'd from the noisy town,
I found a wood with thorny boughs:
I took the thorns to bind my brows,
...

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