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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Break, break, break</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Break, break, break,<br>On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!<br>And I would that my tongue could utter<br>The thoughts that arise in me. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O, well for the fisherman's boy,<br>That he shouts with his sister at play!<br>O, well for the sailor lad,<br>That he sings in his boat on the bay! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And the stately ships go on<br>To their haven under the hill;<br>But O for the touch of a vanished hand,<br>And the sound of a voice that is still! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Break, break, break,<br>At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!<br>But the tender grace of a day that is dead<br>Will never come back to me.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Alfred+Lord+Tennyson">Alfred Lord Tennyson</a></strong></div>

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