---

Alfred Lord Tennyson - In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105.
Work rating: Low

To-night ungather`d let us leave 
        This laurel, let this holly stand:
        We live within the stranger`s land,
And strangely falls our Christmas-eve.
Our father`s dust is left alone
        And silent under other snows:
        There in due time the woodbine blows,
The violet comes, but we are gone.
No more shall wayward grief abuse
       The genial hour with mask and mime;
       For change of place, like growth of time,
Has broke the bond of dying use.

Let cares that petty shadows cast,
       By which our lives are chiefly proved,
       A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.

But let no footstep beat the floor,
       Nor bowl of wassail mantle warm;
       For who would keep an ancient form
Thro` which the spirit breathes no more?

Be neither song, nor game, nor feast;
       Nor harp be touch`d, nor flute be blown;
       No dance, no motion, save alone
What lightens in the lucid east

Of rising worlds by yonder wood.
       Long sleeps the summer in the seed;
       Run out your measured arcs, and lead
The closing cycle rich in good.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.