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" Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself... "
The Owl, a Wednesday journal of politics and society - Página 5
1864
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The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volumen181

1895 - 588 páginas
...met. Yet all experience is an arch where through Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life.' Then comes the sketch of Telemachus,...
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Poems, Volumen2

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1842 - 250 páginas
...have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravelTd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little,...
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Poems, Volumen2

Alfred Tennyson (1st baron.) - 1843 - 256 páginas
...have met ; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little,...
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New Quarterly Review; Or, Home, Foreign and Colonial Journal, Volumen3

1844 - 714 páginas
...have met; , Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravel1'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains...
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The American Whig Review, Volumen2

1845 - 732 páginas
...have met ; Yet all experience is an arch where thro' Gleams that untravel'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho" to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little,...
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Poems

Alfred Tennyson (1st baron.) - 1845 - 510 páginas
...have met ; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life • Were all too...
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Poems, Volumen2

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1846 - 254 páginas
...have met ; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life ! Were all too...
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Essays and Reviews ...

Edwin Percy Whipple - 1848 - 372 páginas
...have met ; Yet all experience is an arch where thro' Gleams that untravel'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unbumish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little,...
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Journal of the Chemical Society, Volumen111,Parte1

Chemical Society (Great Britain) - 1917 - 612 páginas
...from work ; he was ever moved, in fact, by the purpose made manifest by Ulysses in Tennyson's lines : How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use. Just as in early life he had a remarkable command of chemistry, so...
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Notes and Queries

1900 - 614 páginas
...of fashion, like a rusty mail in monumental mockery. Shakspeare, ' Troilus and Cressida,' III. iii. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished. Dot to shine in use ! Tennyson, 'Ulysses.' E. YARDLEY. QEOBGE WITHER. (See ante, p. 300.)...
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