Verse > Anthologies > The World’s Best Poetry > Vol. III. Sorrow and Consolation
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Bliss Carman, et al., eds.  The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume III. Sorrow and Consolation.  1904.
 
V. Death and Bereavement
“Break, break, break”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)
 
BREAK, break, break,
  On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
  The thoughts that arise in me.
 
O well for the fisherman’s boy        5
  That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad
  That he sings in his boat on the bay!
 
And the stately ships go on,
  To the haven under the hill;        10
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
  And the sound of a voice that is still!
 
Break, break, break,
  At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead        15
  Will never come back to me.
 
 
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