Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/76



more the gate behind me falls; Once more before my face I see the moulder'd Abbey-walls, That stand within the chace.

Beyond the lodge the city lies, Beneath its drift of smoke; And ah! with what delighted eyes I turn to yonder oak.

For when my passion first began, Ere that, which in me burn'd, The love, that makes me thrice a man, Could hope itself return'd;