It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an agd wife, I mete and dole. Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
Alfred Lord TennysonAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: August 6, 1809
- Died: October 6, 1892
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And then I feel as if I'm witnessing a miracle, as ever so slowly she raises her face towards the moon. I watch her drink in the sight, sensing the flood of memories she's unleashed and wanting nothing more than to let her know I'm here. But instead I stay where I am and stare up at the moon as well. And for the briefest instant, it almost feels like we're together again.
Nicholas Sparks