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Alfred Lord Tennyson - In Memoriam A. H. H.: 16
Work rating: Medium

I envy not in any moods 
      The captive void of noble rage,
      The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:
I envy not the beast that takes
      His license in the field of time,
      Unfetter`d by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;
Nor, what may count itself as blest,
    The heart that never plighted troth
    But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate`er befall;
    I feel it, when I sorrow most;
    `Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
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