Sunday, May 03, 2009

This afternoon, in Tennyson's  long poem, The Idylls of the King, I read the section called "Pelleas and Etarre", and absolutely loved the many beautiful descriptions, 
like ...  

damsels in divers colour like the cloud
Of sunset and sunrise


... a moon 
With promise of large light on woods and ways 


... up a slope of garden, all
Of roses white and red, and brambles mixt
And overgrowing them, went on, and found,
Here too, all hushed below the mellow moon,
Save that one rivulet from a tiny cave
Came lightening downward, and so spilt itself
Among the roses, and was lost again.

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