Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves a shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,and slips into the bosom of the lake:So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip into my bosom and be lost in me.
-Alfred Lord Tennyson
Select a background
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Popular Authors
A curated listing of popular authors.