Of One Dead

Of One Dead

Lord Alfred Tennyson

If one should bring me this report,
That thou hadst touched the land to-day,
And I went down unto the quay,

And found thee lying in the port;

And standing, muffled round with woe,
Should see thy passengers in rank
Come stepping lightly down the plank,

And beckoning unto those they know;

And if along with these should come
The man I held as half-divine;
Should strike a sudden hand in mine,

And ask a thousand things of home;

And I should tell him all my pain,
And how my life had droop'd of late,
And he should sorrow o'er my state

And marvel what possess'd my brain;

And I perceived no touch of change,
No hint of death in all his frame,
But found him all in all the same,

I should not feel it to be strange.

((If you have any further questions, would like to make a suggestion for a future poem/topic of discussion, or would like an analysis of this poem to be done, please inform me by leaving a comment below. I will address any and all comments in the order they are received, as quickly as I can.))