Come, my friends,'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows;
for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be we shall touch the happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho 'much is taken, much abides; & tho'
We are not now that strength which in old
days moved earth & heaven; that which we
are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time & fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
- Alfred Lord Tennyson -
An English poet often regarded as the chief representative of the Victorian age in poetry, 1809-1892
from The Brown Book
