Come, my friends with Alfred, Lord Tennyson

‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The surrouding furrows; for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulls will wash us down:

It may be we shall touch the Happly Isles,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

—- Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

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