28.10.2007, 15:15
BEYOND the peaks of Kaf a rivulet springs
Whose magic waters to a flood expand.
Distilling, for all drinkers on each hand,
The immortal sweets enveiled in mortal things.
From honeyed flowers, from balm of zephyr-wings,
From fiery blood of gems, through all the land,
The river draws ; then, in one rainbow-band,
Ten leagues of nectar o'er the ocean flings.
Steeped in the riches of a poet's years,
Stained in all colours of Man's destiny,
So Tennyson, thy widening river nears
The misty main, and, taking now the sea,
Makes rich and warm with human smiles and tears
The ashen billows of Eternity.
Whose magic waters to a flood expand.
Distilling, for all drinkers on each hand,
The immortal sweets enveiled in mortal things.
From honeyed flowers, from balm of zephyr-wings,
From fiery blood of gems, through all the land,
The river draws ; then, in one rainbow-band,
Ten leagues of nectar o'er the ocean flings.
Steeped in the riches of a poet's years,
Stained in all colours of Man's destiny,
So Tennyson, thy widening river nears
The misty main, and, taking now the sea,
Makes rich and warm with human smiles and tears
The ashen billows of Eternity.