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...holier head. By this white wandering waste of sea, Far north, I hear One face shall never turn to me Shall never smile and turn and rest On mine as there,...The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find TiU all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

...сaП&ГхБвЬонea! artifice";. as, for instance, in the construction of such a sentence as this : I came as onc whose thoughts half linger, Half run before ; The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. His language, at least, is purely and supremely simple ; it is marred by none of the faults characteristic...

...holier head. By this white wandering waste of sea, Far north, I hear One face shall never turn to me * Shall never smile and turn and rest On mine as there,...The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. , I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

...laughs from sea to sea, Filled full of sun; All things come back to her, being free; All things but one. In many a tender wheaten plot Flowers that were dead...The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

...wandering waste of sea, Far north, I hear One face shall never turn to me Shall never smile and turf and rest On mine as there, Nor one most sacred hand...The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

...Live, and old suns revive; but not That holier head. By this white wandering waste of sea, Far north, 1 hear One face shall never turn to me As once this...The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

...hear One face shall never turn to me As once this year: Shall never smile and torn and rest On mine HS there, Nor one most sacred hand be prest Upon my hair....The youngest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end, In holiest age our mightiest mind, Father and...

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...smile and turn and rest On mine as there, Nor one most sacred hand be prest Upon my hair. Ml. 83-89.] I came as one whose thoughts half linger, Half run before ; The younpest to the oldest singer That England bore. I found him whom I shall not find Till all grief end,...