To The Master Of Balliol
Dear Master in our classic town, You, loved by all the younger gown There at Balliol, Lay your Plato for one minute down, II And read a Grecian tale re-told, Which, cast in later Grecian mould, Quintus Calaber Somewhat lazily handled of old; III And on this white midwinter day For have the far-off hymns of May, All her melodies, All her harmonies echod away? IV To-day, before you turn again To thoughts that lift the soul of men, Hear my cataracts Downward thunder in hollow and glen, V Till, led by dream and vague desire, The woman, gliding toward the pyre, Find her warrior Stark and dark in his funeral fire.
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"Dear Master in our classic town,..."
Alfred Lord Tennyson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "To The Master Of Balliol"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...