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Alfred Lord Tennyson: Song

Song

I

 Every day hath its night:
Every night its morn:
Through dark and bright
Wingèd hours are borne;
Ah! welaway!
Seasons flower and fade;
Golden calm and storm
Mingle day by day.
There is no bright form
Doth not cast a shade—
Ah! welaway!

II

 When we laugh, and our mirth
Apes the happy vein,
We're so kin to earth
Pleasuance fathers pain—
Ah! welaway!
Madness laugheth loud:
Laughter bringeth tears:
Eyes are worn away
Till the end of fears
Cometh in the shroud,
Ah! welaway!

III

 All is change, woe or weal;
Joy is sorrow's brother;
Grief and sadness steal
Symbols of each other;
Ah! welaway!
Larks in heaven's cope
Sing: the culvers mourn
All the livelong day.
Be not all forlorn;
Let us weep in hope—
Ah! welaway!
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