Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
V. Death and BereavementBreak, break, break
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (18091892)B
On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad
That he sings in his boat on the bay!
To the haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.