Enoch Arden, &c. by Alfred Lord Tennyson
page 70 of 118 (59%)
page 70 of 118 (59%)
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Down in the water, a long reef of gold,
Or what seem'd gold: and I was glad at first To think that in our often-ransack'd world Still so much gold was left; and then I fear'd Lest the gay navy there should splinter on it, And fearing waved my arm to warn them off; An idle signal, for the brittle fleet (I thought I could have died to save it) near'd, Touch'd, clink'd, and clash'd, and vanish'd, and I woke, I heard the clash so clearly. Now I see My dream was Life; the woman honest Work; And my poor venture but a fleet of glass Wreck'd on a reef of visionary gold.' `Nay,' said the kindly wife to comfort him, `You raised your arm, you tumbled down and broke The glass with little Margaret's medicine it it; And, breaking that, you made and broke your dream: A trifle makes a dream, a trifle breaks.' `No trifle,' groan'd the husband; `yesterday I met him suddenly in the street, and ask'd That which I ask'd the woman in my dream. Like her, he shook his head. "Show me the books!" He dodged me with a long and loose account. "The books, the books!" but he, he could not wait, Bound on a matter he of life and death: When the great Books (see Daniel seven and ten) Were open'd, I should find he meant me well; And then began to bloat himself, and ooze |
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