Explore "In Memoriam a. H. H" by Alfred Tennyson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
You say, but with no touch of scorn, / Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes / Are tender over drowning flies, / You tell me, doubt is Devil-born.
I know not: one indeed I knew / In many a subtle question versed, / Who touch'd a jarring lyre at first, / But ever strove to make it true: