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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Memoriam A. H. H.: 5. Sometimes I Hold it half a Sin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I sometimes hold it half a sin<br> To put in words the grief I feel;<br> For words, like Nature, half reveal<br> And half conceal the Soul within.<br> But, for the unquiet heart and brain,<br> A use in measured language lies;<br> The sad mechanic exercise,<br> Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.<br> In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,<br> Like coarsest clothes against the cold;<br> But that large grief which these enfold<br> Is given in outline and no more.</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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