~
All along the valley, stream that flashest white,
Deepening the voice with the deepening of the night,
All along the valley, where the waters flow,
I walked with one I loved two and thirty years ago.
All along the valley, while I walked today,
The two and thirty years were a mist that rolles away;
For all along the valley, down thy rocky bed,
Thy living voice to me was as the voice of the dead,
And all along the valley, by rock and cave and tree,
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.
By: Alfred Tennyson
- Alfred Tennyson Poems
- Alfred Tennyson Poetry at Amazon