Tho' if an eye that's downward cast Could make thee somewhat blench or fail, Then be my love an idle tale, And fading legend of the past;
And thou, as one that once declined, When he was little more than boy, On some unworthy heart with joy, But lives to wed an equal mind;
And breathes a novel world, the while His other passion wholly dies, Or in the light of deeper eyes Is matter for a flying smile.
-Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A. H. H., Canto LXII
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