Break, Break, Break
13 lines✦
reak, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
Touch the fisherman's children,
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
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